


Are You With Me?

by mcmachine



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: AU, Canon Fix, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-03-29 07:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 93,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13922661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmachine/pseuds/mcmachine
Summary: April's crisis of faith has her spiraling out of control, and it's impossible for Jackson to ignore. He wants to step in before it becomes too late but doesn't know where to start. Canon-divergent, post-14x13.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love you all very dearly, and the April/Japril fandom as a whole is going through a tremendous struggle. Here is my gift to you all, my fix-it fic.

** _JACKSON_ **

My hands rub across the back of my eyes in a feeble attempt to try and get rid of the blur of exhaustion that plagued them. I haven’t had a lot of late nights lately. Harriet had been getting better and better about making her way through them without fussing or interruption, and my sleep schedule had been thanking her for it. But not every night was perfect, and I can’t blame her for that. Even if the past few days have been considerably worse.

A part of me wonders if she knows that there’s something wrong with April. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she had her mother’s same empathetic intuition even as a one-year-old. We always complimented her for how smart she was, the same way that anyway a parent would with their child. But there feels something genuine about it with our little girl.

All of the women in my life are equally important to me. Harriet, Catherine, April. All of them played vastly different roles, and April’s was perhaps the one that had changed over the course of the years that we had known each other. We’d been friends, lovers, and everything in between. Some things more negative on the spectrum, too, even if I felt uncomfortable admitting that. I’d hurt her, she’d hurt me. It’d been a two way street and we both had our faults. Since she moved out, things had been more tense – there’s more space than ever between the two of us, less room for me to step in and try to help her. But now, I know it’s what she needs. She could try and hide it, but she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“Hey, Jackson, do you have a minute?” Arizona’s perky voice draws me out of my thoughts, grabbing my attention.

“Sure,” I have a quick nod of my head. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember that conversation that we had about April yesterday?” She asked.

As if there was any chance that I’d be able to forget something like that. I nodded my head as I spoke. “Yeah, of course. Leave it alone, you made your message nice and clear. Why?”

“Well, I may have been wrong about that,” she admitted with a frown pulling down at the corners of her lips. My brow furrowed in confusion as she offered a little further of an explanation. “I’m starting to think that you were right and maybe there is something more going on. I went to Joe’s last night and she was… wow. I mean, she was up on the bar and pouring shots for the interns. I knew that she was going out and having fun but I thought that it was a regular kind of fun, you know? Mostly harmless, reliving her teenage and college years kind of fun.” She rambled on.

I knew that April had plans that night and I figured they probably weren’t the most respectable ones. Roy had made it pretty obvious that the two of them were now sleeping together, and I’d done my best to try and bury any kind of reaction to that. She had a right to sleep with whoever she wanted. We both did, even if I hadn’t been branching out much in that department.

“And what exactly are you thinking now?” I prompted her, not wanting to jump to any conclusions yet.

“There’s something wrong. I don’t know if it has something to do with the way that she was blaming herself for Karin Taylor’s death or if it’s something completely unrelated, but there’s something deeper going on there and I can’t figure it out. Maybe you should talk to her,” Arizona suggested lightly. It was something that I’d tried to do, sure, and she didn’t know that.

And honestly, the epic failure that had been my attempt to talk with her. Not particularly respectable with the way that she had shot me down without any kind of hesitation. She could blame it on me having Harriet, even if it’s a bullshit excuse and the both of us know it. Any time that she was turning down an opportunity to be spent with her daughter was something to be concerned about. She loved Harriet more than anything else on the planet. Anyone with a brain could see that. I was an idiot for not pushing it any further.

“I’ll try and talk with her,” I agreed with a nod of my head. “But I don’t know if she’s going to listen to me much. Did you say anything to her last night?” I asked.

“Yeah, but she was too drunk tor really pick up on any of it, I think. I made sure that she got home safe but she wasn’t listening to a word that I said.” There’s a little bit of selfish joy to be found in the words, that Arizona had made sure she was in one piece instead of letting her run home with Roy. Not much, though.

“Thanks for the heads up,” I offered, withholding the sigh that wanted to escape. I nearly opened up my mouth to say something further on the topic but her pager went off, and I let her go with another forced smile.

It seemed like things were a lot worse than what I’d done with. Sleeping with an intern, well, it’s an excusable thought even if Roy had made it clear that apparently he wasn’t the best pick for the matter. Most of the people in this hospital fell for the trap of sleeping with a subordinate at one point or another – hell, I’d done it with both Lexie and Stephanie. Meredith and Derek had built a marriage off it. It’s a bad comparison to make, especially with the state of mind that she’s in. But at least that’s not the most outlandish thing there. The drinking, the banana bags… that had a lot more potential to due more longterm damage than sex. Well, not entirely true, either. But that’s not a train of thought that I can stand to go down.

The rest of my day flew by with minimal eventfulness, answering page where necessary and performing the scheduled cleft palette that I’d had with Karev already on the schedule. I do my job, but my mind isn’t entirely there, either. I can’t stop thinking about her wellbeing.

But April was scheduled to have Harriet tonight, which at least meant that she’d be sobered this evening. It didn’t mean that she’d want to see me necessarily, but it set up the same trap for her that she’d had for me yesterday. I knew that I’d be able to catch her outside of daycare this evening when she went to pick our little girl up, and that was the perfect chance to try and get some kind of information or conversation out of her. Maybe then I’d at least get a chance of getting her to sit down for some coffee with me. Or at least enough conversation to walk with her to her car. At the moment, even that seemed like a long shot.

I take the time to check with Hunt for her schedule about the day, taking note of when she’d likely be done. HIs prediction is more or less accurate, and I don’t have to wait for her long. I’d already gotten Harriet all checked out for the day, sitting on an empty bed across the hallway from the room with her on her lap. For a few minutes, she was fascinated with my stethoscope.

“Hi, my little boo bear!” April’s voice could be heard down the hallway calling out for her daughter, and Harriet’s head turns to the sound with recognition of her mother’s voice.

She comes up to me in a jog and scooped Harriet up and off of my lap without any hesitation, stretching her high into the air and giving a twirl of motion before settling with the little girl on her hip. She cooed over her in the high voice that she’d always used around her, and for a moment, my worries disappear as I watch her. Even if it’s clear that she’s got some crap going on inside, her abilities as the mother to my daughter haven’t failed in the slightest. She might have said that was reason to step back, but that wasn’t going to be enough to convince me.

“Did you miss me?” She questioned, peppering little chubby cheeks with kisses. “Momma missed you, baby bear. So very much.”

“Hey,” I finally speak up, not wanting to interrupt the moment between mother and daughter but not wanting to give her the chance to run away without getting a word in, either. “Hope you don’t mind I checked her out, I got off a little early and just wanted to see her before you took her for the night.” It’s not a lie, but it’s nowhere near the entire truth, either. I wanted to see her just as much. “I was thinking since neither of us have plans, maybe we could go get that coffee I mentioned last night.” I don’t want to beat around the bush too much, knowing that she was going to see through it one way or another.

“Really?” Incredulously raised brows meet my gaze and I can’t find myself with enough energy to be surprised by her negative reaction. “I can’t just, I don’t know, have a night to myself with my daughter?” It’s a fair point, and if I’d been asking because I was bored, I probably would have gone with it.

“I know that I’m not your father,” I started before she could go down that train of thought again. “But we’re still a part of each other’s lives, April. Harriet’s going to know the both of us, and we’re going to know each other. I can’t just pretend that you’re… I don’t know, like some babysitter for her. I don’t want to treat you like that, either.” It’s a poor comparison, but all of the speeches that I’d ran through as trial and error in my head earlier in the day weren’t coming to fruition. They hadn’t been much better in my head, either.

She sighed at me, adjusting Harriet’s position on her hip and started walking in the direction of the exit. I don’t hesitate to follow and the moment that she sees me coming after, she started up.

“You don’t need to be looking out for me, okay? I’m a big girl. I know how to look after myself.”

I don’t doubt that, normally. But nothing about this particular circumstance was normal.

“I know, you’re an adult, you can do what you choose. I got it. But we all have problems, we all go through some tough crap from time to time. And I don’t want you to think that just because we’re divorced that you need to go through this alone, April.” I countered, the beginnings of my own frown beginning to dig into the corners of my mouth. I didn’t want to berate her or turn this into too negative of a conversation, but there’s no way that I can hide what I’m really feeling. I care about her far too much for that.

“Why do you think I’m going through anything?” She snapped back at me quickly.

“You’re not acting like yourself. And I’m not the only person who’s noticed it, alright? It’s kind of hard to when you come into work and go straight for the banana bag. You’ve been shorter with people than usual, too.” I’m careful with my words, not wanting to insult her and give her a real reason to storm off. But it’s hard to know with how volatile she’s been lately, both to me and in reputation floating around the hospital. I’ve always known that there’s a bit of a spitfire resting inside of her, but it’d never been much of public knowledge until now. She deserved to stand up for herself, but this was more than that. 

“I’m letting loose. Don’t I deserve to have some fun in my life? I mean, c’mon, Jackson. Everyone knows that you’re not exactly innocent from partying,” she observed with a raise eyebrow as she glanced over at me with a pointed stare. The gentle adjustment of Harriet’s shirt is a sharp juxtaposition to the glare that she was now giving me.

“Of course you deserve to have fun, that’s not what I’m getting at,” I answered quickly. “Your version of fun has just never been going out and getting crazy drunk, or sleeping with interns.”

“You’re not really about to slut shame me, are you?” She interrupted.

I groaned loudly, not bothering to hide my frustration with that particular comment. “Of course not, April, that’s not the point. Stop trying to get away from it.” I pleaded with her.

“So what is your point? To bore me? Or to annoy me?” There was that attitude that she’d been crazy about in the past few days. No surprise there.

“Neither.” What I would have given for even a momentary break in the fortress that she had built up around herself. I understood why she didn’t want to let me in as a general rule, but I’d really thought that I’d been picking up on some kind of cry for help for her. I didn’t doubt any more now than I did earlier in the day that there was something wrong, but just how to go about it the right way. “I’m worried about you, that’s my point, and just because you tell me that I shouldn’t be> Yeah, that’s not going to stop me. Or anyone else, for that matter, April. You need help that doesn’t come in the form of an empty bottle.”

I’m not worried that she’s about to go home and get drunk with our daughter in the house. That’s not really something that I would have even thought about with how great of a mother she was – I don’t think that she would have consciously done anything that would have put Harriet’s safety or wellbeing at risk. She was a bit paranoid about her wellbeing from time to time. That would have been just about the opposite of what I expected from her. I can see that she’s really, genuinely happy when she’s with Harriet. It’s pretty much the only time that I see that part of her lately.

“What do you think that you could possibly do to help me, Jackson?”

It’s a fair question and it’s probably one that I should have seen coming. With all of the pleadings that I’d gone through in my head, all of the different ways that I could word it and try to convince her, I hadn’t actually gone far enough down the road to try to piece together a game plan for how to help her. I knew that step one was going to be to get her to admit it regardless of what else was going on, but I wasn’t sure that she was ever going to get there. Let alone in one conversation. But before I have the chance to try and pull some kind of answer out of thin air, or some kind of suggestion that doesn’t sound like it’s a load of crap, she’s already coming back at me with the witty retorts that make me want to rip my nearly completely shaved hair out.

“Are you going to just try to sleep with me again, give me something to hold onto for a few weeks and let it go? ‘Cause you know, if that’s your plan, then you might want to use a condom this time.”

The words are a lot harsher than anything than I would have expected from her. I know it’s not intended to be an insult to Harriet from the mere fact that she was the best part of both of our lives, no matter how complicated it had been at the time when she had gotten pregnant with her. That hadn’t been my plan in the slightest, hadn’t even been so much as a thought. Sure, I didn’t want her running around with a bunch of other men for sex, and… well, as much as I loved having sex with her in the past, I knew right now the only thing that it was going to do was cause both of more trouble. And I didn’t want that, either. It just seemed like there was an endless list of what not to do, and no options for how to go forward. Not true, but my mind isn’t running as quickly as I wish it would in the moment.

“That’s not even close to what I would have considered getting at, April,” I let out a sigh. We were getting closer to her cars and I held the door out from her as we exited outside, cool air hitting the both of us and I watched for a moment as she gave a little shiver and help Harriet closer.

“It really doesn’t seem like you’re getting at much other than the fact that you’ve got your panties twisted in a bunch and seem insistent on taking it out on me instead of dealing with it yourself.” She glared at me once more before her head turned forward and she briskly walked in the direction of her car. Even if mine was in the opposite direction, I continued to follow her, not wanting to drop the conversation on that note.

“I’m just saying that I’m still looking out for you, alright? Whenever you’re ready to talk about what’s going on… I’m going to be there for you. And I’m sure that I’m not the only one, either.” For a moment I consider whether or not to tell her that Arizona was worried about her too. I don't ant her to feel ganged up on but I want her to know that this wasn’t just my imagination making things up, that what she was going through was both real and recognized by the people who cared about her most. “Just think about it, okay? You’re going to have to face this forever. I know that being around Harriet, it’s easy to forget about all the crap. Trust me, I do it too. But there’s only so much that you can really do to cover it up.”

I knew that her having Harriet for the night too meant that this was pretty much all that I was going to be able to think about for the remainder of the evening, too, without my own distraction from the complications that life outside of work always had to offer up. There’s the urge to go back inside, talk to Hunt, see if he’d noticed anything with all of the time that the two of them spent together. But I still remember vividly how pissed off she had been at me when I went behind her back to talk to him about getting her out of the O.R. with Samuel. Repeating that right now seemed like a poor idea.

“Do you feel better now that you’ve gotten that off of your chest?” She responded, stopping as she reached her car and turning around so that she could look at me. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, hand instead coming up to scratch the back of my neck.

“Just please, don’t brush off what I’m saying, okay?” I don’t want to have to beg with her, especially this early on since it seemed like this was going to be far from the last time that it was brought up between the two of us. But I had to wonder for a moment if I was already running out of other options with her.

April doesn’t respond to the words directly, instead hitching up Harriet on her hip once more and using her free hand to open up the car door, clearer than any words that she really was completely done with this conversation and me for the night. “Say goodnight to Daddy, sweetheart. Say night-night,” she encouraged our daughter. My features soften into a smile for our precious girl for only a brief moment, bending down so that I could press two kisses against Harriet, one against the side of her temple and another part of the curls that were clearly all mine.

“Night night, baby girl,” I cooed warmly in her eyes.

“Ni, da-da!” The closest to the words that she could manage at the moment, but hearing her so clearly say my name is more than enough to bring me plenty of joy to get me through the rest of the night. There was no doubt about it that Harriet was growing up far too fast. It was both hard and amazing to watch all at the same time, and I didn’t want to miss a single moment of any of it. That was a part of what made trading her off each week hard for the both of us.

“Goodnight, April,” I offer up to her sincerely, taking a step back to give her a little distance and show her that I wasn’t going to continue to harass her about the matter for the night.

“Night, Jackson.”

I do pause for a moment to watch her as she gets Harriet into the car seat and buckled up securely. Sighing to myself, I begin to head back across the hospital parking lot to my own car, fishing my keys out of my pocket as I do so. Something like this wasn’t going to come with an easy solution. It didn’t take a lot to figure that out, but I think that even I’d manage to overestimate this situation and how hard it would be to handle. I just wanted her to be alright, to be comfortable with who she was and not have to get through her weeks with Harriet by drinking her way through them.

Even though it was hard for me too, and I missed her like crazy on those nights, I’d never tried to drink away that pain. Sure, I cracked open a beer here and there while I watched a football or basketball game, but that wasn’t near the same kind of hardcore drinking that she was doing.

Getting into my car, the engine started up with a glorious purr. I don’t hesitate to pull out of the parking lot and get driving home, more drained from the attempted conversation with her than I had anticipated going into it. It’s a short drive home as my thoughts cyclically go through the conversation that we’d have tonight, the one that we’d had the night before, even as short as that had been. All I wanted to do was think about all of the conversations that we’d had over the past few days, try and pick apart every little detail of them. Even if she wasn’t acting like herself with the sassy attitude that she’d been putting on display for everyone, it’s hard to find a particular word or saying that she’d grown out that was particularly concerning or indicate of what she’d been through. And not knowing the why of her current problem was only going to make trying to figure out what it actually was that much harder.

Maybe there was some kind of information that I’d be able to pull out of Arizona on the matter, something that she hadn’t thought to mention. Something as simple as the stress of the contest was far from likely to be the core of it with this kind of issue, though it crossed my mind. Hunt would be another good source to ask, even if I’d have to figure out how to ask him without him going to April about it. He was a good guy, a good friend to April, but he was about as subtle as a brick.

But that was a challenge for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

_**APRIL** _

For the first time in days, I wake up with a clear head.

There’s no bludgeoning of my sanity with the ache of a hangover from the night before, no soreness or stiffness or sheets that needed to be thrown into the washing machine first thing. It’s refreshing. Sunlight streams in through half-open blinds in my room and reaches across the entirety of it, barely beginning to warm my skin in the cool winter morning. So much of my life had been spent as a morning person and it was a streak that I had pretty much ruined in the past few days with hangovers and banana bags, but this finally feels good. There was a clear cause and effect relationship there that would no doubt go ignored the first night that I didn’t have Harriet with me.

Rolling onto my side, the baby monitor rested on the nightstand with no noise emitted from the other side. It’s a pleasant surprise. Then my gaze drifted to the clock to realize that my alarm hadn’t even gone yet – a chance at fourteen extra minutes of sleep thrown away. But trying to go back to sleep now would only leave me more frustrated when the alarm eventually went off.

I reach over and go ahead and shut it off before it can provide me any irritation, laying in bed for a moment longer to scroll through the news. It’s a mindless check, mostly. Politics don’t interest me anymore, neither did sports, and those were always the two things that pretty much dominated stories and headlines.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I take a long minute to stretch out my limbs and appreciate the clarity that not having an excess of alcohol the night before had brought my body. I twist each way and get a pop of my spine that leaves me happy, setting off to my morning routine in a surprisingly good mood. I shower and get Harriet up, and she watches in awe and banging a cup as I curl my hair and put on just enough makeup to make myself look presentable and professional for the workday. It’s always a little harder to focus on getting myself ready when I wanted nothing more than to smother her with absolute love and kisses, but at least I knew that like last night, I would have plenty of time to be able to do that tonight. And tomorrow was my day off, so that instantly would be even better. An entire day with just my little girl.

“C’mon, boo boo. It’s time for mommy to go to work.” I never stop talking to her in the mornings, wanting to make sure that she honed her vocal skills are soon as possible. Basic syllables are already in her vocabulary, enough to address her parents and indicate yes or no. It’s a start.

Even with the radio playing some quiet music in the background, I chatter to her incessantly on the car ride to the hospital, whether it’s about driving or other observations. There’s always noise, always something. My mind spins and whiles with arbitrary conversation. Perhaps that was another one of the reasons that I was so much happier when I was with her because I didn’t have to think about any of the other crap in the world. Or any of the crap that Jackson had tried to get me to open up about last night. I’d put that off for as long as I could.

My mind was a battle, half refusing to recognize what the problem is, the other half well aware and instead futile ignoring it. Most of my life, there’d been some kind of battlefield going on inside of my head. It just so happened that this one had finally been the one to push me over the edge.

But I have to push that off, bury it down.

Getting Harriet down to daycare is a quick and easy process even though it always pained me to let go off her even for just the day, but it motivates me to get back to the E.R. quickly so that I could find something to fill the task of empty hands. One of the residents had been in charge of it overnight with Hunt on call, and maybe the bitterness at the lack of official recognition that I’d never received for actually running the damn trauma center was finally kicking in because I’m not surprised to come into a mess. Some days it seemed like I was the only person here who was capable of actually managing this monstrosity.

“Are you kidding me?” I snap off at Bello, gaze shooting daggers at her. “How incompetent do you have to be?” Maybe it’s not the biggest mistake in the world, but it doesn’t stop me from snapping out at her. I had played nice with interns and residents in the past, and it’d never earned me their respect. I’m not going to be called the dud again, not by anyone. Even if maybe Dr. Party wasn’t the most respectable improvement.

Most of the day, admittedly, goes along the same lines. If it wasn’t Bello, then it was Glasses. And if it wasn’t Glasses, then it was Roy. Just because he’d seen me naked and had tried to get on my good side didn’t mean that I was going to treat his incompetence like anything other than exactly what it was.

“Hey,” Hunt caught up with me during a slow moment. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” I turn to glance at him as I answer, lids blinking a few times. “Why?”

“Uh, nothing, no big deal,” he immediately brushed off. “Just wanted to check in. Seems like you’re a little tense today, going off on the interns like that and all,” Owen pointed out, waving his hand in the direction of one of the bottom feeders as he spoke. I wet my lips, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at him immediately.

“Was I wrong to do so?” I instead questioned.

“Ah, no, they’ve been screwing up all day,” he gave half a chuckle with his words. “You’re just usually a little more patient with them, that’s all. But if nothing’s wrong…?”

Owen trailed off quietly and he looked at me with expectantly raised brows to finish his sentence. I shook my head as I answered. “Nothing’s wrong. Just tired of dealing with their crap, I guess. I slept better last night that I’ve slept in days, honestly. Guess it’s easy to be at peace when I know that Harriet’s sleeping over with me for the night.”

“I noticed no banana bag,” he commented.

His gaze hadn’t changed from the concerned one that he had started the conversation with, and having his skeptical gaze on me was producing a vulnerability that I didn’t like. He was one of the few people in this place who had seen my potential from the start of my surgical career, who had pushed me and made sure that I became a talented trauma surgeon. Heck, we’d been in a war zone together. Not a lot could beat that kind of bonding. I don’t want to give him the same attitude that I’d been giving some other people lately, but there’s no way that I’m about to open up to him right now, either. Middle ground existed between the two of them but that was something that I hadn’t been able to find a lot of lately.

“I had Harriet last night,” I remembered him with a shrug. “I wasn’t going to drink with her.” It seemed obvious enough to me, at least.

“Right,” he breathed out. I could see the awkwardness written all over his face and for a moment I’m grateful that it’s him and not me. “I’m gonna go check up on a patient.”

The conversation is dropped at that and I breathe out a sigh of relief as I watch him walk away for a moment, returning down to the tablet in my hand and finishing the paperwork on the latest patient that I had treated. The day was already flying by and it was getting near the end of my shift, thankfully. Getting home with Harriet as soon as was the plan. Cooking a real meal and putting on Moana for the umpteenth time for her sounded too tempting. And, well, a little bit for myself. That _How Far I’ll Go_ song was catchy.

A heavily pregnant woman stumbled into the E.R. near the last minute and I sent a page for OB, surprised when it’s Arizona who appeared given how she’d complained before about being a fetal surgeon and not just an OB. I don’t comment on it, but her decision to take the page becomes clear when she comes up to me after tending to her.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” She perked up with a bright smile.

“I’m fine.” My answer is short, setting down the tablet in my hands and pulling my stethoscope off my neck, shoving it down in one of the pockets of my lab coat. “You don’t need to– to check up on me. All I’m doing tonight is taking my daughter home and chilling. I might open up a bottle of wine for cooking, but that’s it.” I cover all my bases before she has the chance to throw out any criticism at me.

“I wasn’t going to accuse you of anything,” she replied with her smile dropping and twisting down into a frown. “I just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re feeling.”

“And I’m fine,” I repeated more firmly.

“Sure,” Arizona offered up though it was obvious that she didn’t believe me whatsoever. “But you know if there is something going on, then you can talk to me, right? You just haven’t been the same lately, since Karin’s death and I want to make sure that everything’s–“

“Arizona, stop.” I cut her off abruptly. “You’ve been talking to Jackson, haven’t you?” I accused her, eyebrows raising.

“What?” She feigned shock. “No, I just–“

“That’s a yes,” I disagreed with a sharp shake of my head. “Why don’t the both of you just keep my name out of your mouth, okay? Neither of you has any reason to be talking about me, let alone talking down about me behind my back. Get the picture. You don’t get to shit on me about Karin one minute and question my skills as a doctor, then turn around the next week. You don’t get to do the back and forth, and I’m not going to handle it anymore.” I snapped off, letting loose thoughts that had been stuck shaking around my skull for weeks now that I’d never had the courage to say.

Arizona stared at me for a moment, stunned with the harsh honestly that had come spilling from my lips. Then came the nearly inevitable question. “What the hell is wrong with you, April? Why are you acting like this?”

The first thing I can do is scoff, shaking my head and glancing away from her for a moment. “I am finally doing what I want with my life, not what other people what. And right now, that means a change. The only two things that I care about is being a good mother, and doing the thing that makes me happy.” Even if happy these days was more along the lines of numb. “So stop trying to get in the way of that.”

I don’t give her the opportunity to respond this time, turning swiftly on my heel and walking away. It was time for me to get going anyway, and I wasn’t about to stand around with her for another minute after that conversation.

As if my temper hadn’t already been set off enough for the day, my phone buzzed as I got changed back into my regular clothes in the attending lounge. A text from Arizona. Seeing her name is enough and I don’t bother reading any of the text beneath it.

“There’s my sweet little angel!” I cooed as I grab my daughter for daycare, talking to her about every little silly thing as we make our way down to the car. This time, there’s no interruption from Jackson, just enough time to clear my head from the conversation that he had tried to have me with yesterday.

Of course, there was something wrong with me. Maybe I shouldn’t have been mad or upset that the people closest to me were finally beginning to pick up on it, but after taking so much crap from everyone around them, it didn’t feel right for them to care. That’s why hooking up with Roy had been so easy – he didn’t know me, he didn’t care about me. Maybe he tried to for a hot second after our first night together, but I’d shot that down and he’d taken his role since. If only more people were capable of doing that, playing their role correctly. The role of a good husband, the role of a good friend. Both had failed me. I’d spent so much time trying and trying to be a good wife, to be good to the people around me, but the reciprocation had failed me time after time. Maybe it wasn’t true for absolutely everything that had happened, but there was enough behind it to break me down.

But they and the ideas they represented weren’t the only things that had failed me. God had, too. So many years of my life dedicated and wasted to being a good and loyal servant, endless devotion and compassion. I couldn’t keep going at that rate with reason after reason not to piling up. The weight had finally crushed me.

Getting home and Harriet settled in her playpen, I start up the movie for her before finding place in the kitchen. I need to go grocery shopping desperately - a task for tomorrow. But I’ve got pasta and a jar of sauce in the pantry, some mushrooms and zucchini in the fridge. That would do. It was harder to cook for one person and my meal choices had become a little simpler sense. But there’s still part of a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer, and that was going to be enough to make dinner tonight decadent.

Humming along with the movie while I wait for the water to boil, I squat down in Harriet’s playpen with her for a few minutes. She was batting along the Baby Einstein Discovering Music table that I had gotten for her a couple of months ago. She hadn’t been crazy about it at first but now that she’s spending more and more time on her feet without assistance, she seemed to love pressing all of the buttons and listening to it count to five in French. I count along with it in the other languages and encourage her to press the buttons, smiling at the bubbling laughter that she gifted me with. Maybe it’s a loud house for just the two of us, but I loved it.

The two of us eat together and Harriet makes a mess of both herself and the tray. My pasta is scarfed down between taking care of her and I know that it’s going to be time for a bath before bed. The kitchen and cleaning will have to come later. By the time I finally get her settled down for the night, I’m ready for bed but there are still things to do.

Things that don’t involve my phone ringing. Yet it happens anyways. With Jackson on my caller ID, I sigh before picking it up.

“What’s wrong?” I answered.

“Hey– what? Nothing’s wrong. Why are you asking me that?” Jackson replied.

“Because you shouldn’t be calling me unless there’s something wrong. Goodnight, Jackson.” I’m half a second away from disconnecting the call before I can hear his pleading voice on the other side.

“April, stop. Don’t hang up the phone, alright?” He begged.

“Fine,” I sighed loudly into the receiver, making sure that he would be able to see it. “What do you want?”

“Just to talk,” he said vaguely. “I’d like to finish last night’s conversation, if possible. I know that there’s something going on with you, April. You can say that you’re just my baby mama all you want, but you’re always going to be my friend, too.” His words are kind, yet I can’t find any authenticity there.

“My friend?” I questioned. “So where were you when I stepped up as interim chief? Sitting at the cool kids' table and talking about me behind my back. And where have you been these past few weeks? Running around, seeing if you can get your tongue down your step-sister’s throat. Not exactly what friends do, Jackson.” I tell him off without any hesitation, letting loose of the bitterness inside of me. It’s more therapeutic than I’d ever hoped to let that out.

My words had caught him by surprise, and I can tell by the hesitation on the other side. “I’m not trying to do anything with Maggie. She’s my sister, kind of, yeah. That’s why I’m getting to know her.” He justified. “And do you really want to know my answer about the chief thing?”

“Sure.” I don’t hesitate.

“It was all the stuff with my dad. Him walking out, betraying me and my mom. I was being oversensitive and a dick, I get it. I took out my problems with him on you and you didn’t deserve it.”

It’s the closest thing to an apology that I had gotten from anyone with all of the crap that had gone down with Minnick. It forced me to pause for a moment, swallowing my emotions. I can’t open myself up to him from one apology, not when the laundry list is so much longer than just that. I won’t.

“That’s something else, coming from the guy who wanted a divorce.” I pointed out without mercy, needing something cold to balance out what he had said.

“Really?” It was his turn to sigh. “I’m not going to get into that again, okay? Yeah, we’re divorced. But you’re the mother of my children, April. You’re always going to have an important role in my life no matter how you try and diminish that.”

Children.

_Children._

The words replay through my head over and over again, thoughts of Samuel flooding me with the reference. My hand came to cover my mouth, ensuring no noise escaped, not wanting him to know the effect that specific word had on me. That was always the thing to make me break down when nothing else would, and I can’t deal with that right now. I don’t know how to have that conversation with him when I’m in this state of mind. 

“Well, I’m glad that you haven’t forgotten we have children together. Harriet is trying to sleep right now and I’ve got a lot to clean up, so I should really get going...” It’s the first time that I’ve tried to end the conversation without snapping at him. I’m not trying to soften up, but it’s hard to be cruel in any form with Samuel on my mind. God, the world, it had been impossibly cruel to me when it had decided to strip my first born from me. And something about it feels wrong to continue the cycle and perpetuate that kind of negativity into the world.

“Are you sure that there’s nothing you want to say about it?”

It’s a heavy question and only because the truthful answer is yes. I wanted to talk about it with someone, but I wasn’t sure that he would give me anything other than his own shortsighted judgment. He didn’t have faith. He never had. There was nothing that he could say to me that would have had a chance of saving my own. I’m not sure if that’s the right path, if it’s close to the one that I want to try and go down, but there’s a part of me that’s scared of what life looked like without it. It was something that I’d never experienced. Sure, plenty of my friends weren’t religious, and they were good people. That wasn’t the problem. I didn’t know what to turn to when times got tough without it. Alcohol clearly wasn’t the answer, even if it’d become my temporary crutch.

“No, but I have something that I want to know,” I decided, taking a deep breath before unloading the question onto him. “Why are you suddenly acting like yourself again? Why now? You went weeks acting like a complete stranger.”

Silence is the first thing that greeted me on the other end of the phone, a heavy pause settling between the two of them. Maybe it’s unfair, but it doesn’t feel like it’s completely out of the blue. He’d been acting more like a stranger, a sperm donor, than a friend lately. And some things were just easier to confront when you didn’t have to look the other person in the eye, didn’t have to see their face. People talked about the anonymity of the internet and how it was easier to open up there, I’d see it all over the mommy forums that I’d once skimmed through when Harriet was younger. I find it hear, in the solace of the phone call, just for a minute.

“I guess I wasn’t sure how to be around you in the same after you moved out.” Jackson finally replied after a few long, quiet seconds. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be around me at all, with what you said about Montana and the sex. I thought that you might want some space to try and figure it out again. But now it seems like space is the last thing you need.”

It’s not the worst answer. I hadn’t had any expectations for him because honestly, I hadn’t been able to figure that one out on my own. Moving out was supposed to be easier for the both of us, not just me. While it certainly had been for me, some of the physical distance between us making it easier to seep from lingering over him openly and emotionally, it sounded like it hadn’t been the exact same for me. But it’s not a decision that I regret. I did what was best for myself – and suffering in a relationship wasn’t a good thing. We had both learned that with each other. sometimes two people really were better off with distance between them.

“Okay,” I breathed out uncertainly, deciding not to argue with him on the matter. “I accept that.” I said, bottom lip catching in my teeth after speaking.

“Are we good, then?” He asked with the assumed approval from my answer.

“We’re fine.” But that doesn’t mean that I’m about to go spilling my soul quite so easily at him, ether. There were still things that I needed to figure out, and right now, without him seemed like it was better than the alternative. If he’d been unsure about where we stood then, maybe he was sure now. And I don’t want to confuse that no matter what he said, I don’t want to force that kind of vulnerability into the situation. I know what he’s like. And I know myself, too. We’d been best friends for years, long before the two of us had gotten eloped at Lake Tahoe with just the two of us. “I really need to get cleaning, though, and get some sleep for myself.” I added after a quiet moment.

“Of course,” he said, and I can practically see him nodding his head. “I don’t mean to keep you up. Have a good night, April.”

“Goodnight, Jackson.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks for all of the wonderful reviews that you've left! I want to take a moment to put a BIG TW in this chapter for: suicide attempts, cutting, depression, etc.
> 
> Additionally, if you haven't signed the petition for getting Sarah and Jessica back, please do! Even if it's unlikely it'll work, it's great to show support. It's all over Twitter but PM me if you need the link.

** _JACKSON_ **

I don't have a lot of overnight shifts anymore, mostly just on call when no one else was available to be. Unless there's been a big fire or accident, there's not usually a lot for me to actually do other than catch up on paperwork and supply orders for the department.

But a 911 page from Owen has me rushing to get downstairs to the emergency room.

"Nineteen-year-old girl, EMS responded on the scene. She opened up her wrists, transverse lacs. Major blood loss, low b.p." Details of the case are thrown out quickly and I absorbed them, knowing exactly what all of that meant. The girl coming in had tried to kill herself, slit her wrists. I get paged for these cases occasionally because the vertical slashes are a lot harder to treat than the horizontal ones, especially when they got deep. No matter how people may have wanted to cast aside plastics, my job wasn't all tucks and lifts.

A second ambulance was pulling up at the same time from another accident and Hunt glanced at me for just a moment before I nodded my head in confirmation. "Go ahead, I got this."

When the girl is rolled out of the ambulance, it's hard to tell that she's barely conscious at the moment and it had been a close call with the gauze pressed against her forearms by the paramedics attending to her and the IV bag that trailed after her. For a minute, it's probably a good thing that she was unconscious. This was the kind of overwhelming thing that always wrecked patients who came in under this situation, the onslaught of physicians tending and hovering over them, making sure that nothing else went wrong when so much already had.

A page to psychiatry is sent off as protocol demanded it. The whole process was very streamlined and unfortunately practiced given what it was like to be in a city as big as Seattle with higher rates of depression, designed to make the encounter as safe as possible for both the patient and medical staff. The patients were never left alone. Even if her wounds needed to be closed properly, the bleeding was stopped. A nurse is with her to get her changed into one of the patient gowns, making sure that there's nothing that she could hurt herself any further with.

Entering the trauma room with her once more, the nurse and I trade places with only a brief exchange of words between the two of them. She'd heard from the psychiatrist that had been paged said that the psych ward beds were currently full and she was likely to be down here for a day or two. Another thing that was unfortunate, but not surprising. They were frequently filled.

I settled down into one of the stools by her bedside, examining her for a moment. She looked asleep, at peace. I can't even begin to imagine why someone so young would do something like this. It was something that I had never understood.

Slowly opening up the gauze so I can get a better peek at the damage of the wound, a frown deepened across my expression. Stitches would be necessary, but something like that was going to leave a nasty scar across her wrists even with my kind of expertise. Even with the split skin, I can see that it's not the only time that she's tried her hand at something like this. Faint, thin horizontal scars from the past were there as well, all fairly old. Whatever she had been going through to get her to this stage, it had been going on for a long time. Small wounds like that only take a few days to heal. Her current, larger ones would take weeks.

Gathering the supplies that I'd need to treat her, I start slowly. Some areas of the body required a little more focus and expertise than the others, and this was one of them. She must have known that vertical lacerations of this time were much more dangerous than horizontal ones.

It's not until she tries to yank her arm away from my work that I realize she's conscious again.

"Hey, calm down, alright?" I keep my grip on her firm, not wanting more damage to be caused. "My name's Dr. Avery. You're at Grey Sloan Memorial. Let me get these closed up for you."

"No!" She screamed at me, trying to yank against the restraints that had been put on her for her own safety. "No! Just let me die!"

The words are impossibly hard to hear, especially from someone so young.

"It's my job not to let that happen," I reply calmly.

She made a few more attempts to try and yank at both my grip and the restraints that kept her in place, but it took a few long and exhausting moments for her to realize that those attempts weren't going to get her anywhere. I'm relieved when she does stop.

"Can you tell me your name?" I ask her gently. I'm not sure yet if a conversation with her was going to make things better or worse, but I want to give it a try just in case.

"Samantha," the brunette answered softly though she didn't look at me as she spoke. She's young, pretty. Wide-set eyes. My gaze returned back to the wound on her left wrist after she answered, hoping the cooperation was going to stay. When I don't immediately give her another question to ask, she turned the conversation to me. "Aren't you going to tell me I have so much to live for?"

"I could," I start with a slight nod. "But would you listen to me if I did?" My gaze darted up to her face.

Samantha let out a slight huff. "No." She paused. "You're probably just another doctor who sees this all the time and doesn't care. Why should I?" She challenged.

"Well, doctor's about the only part of that you're right about," I mused. "But I'm not going to lecture you on the value of life. That's glib reassurance. Life is hard."

"You're kind of terrible at this," she commented with a shake of her head.

"Hey, I'm being upfront with you. It's hard, but the good things out there? They're amazing. Worth all of the crap." Maybe I've never understood depression or suicidal ideation, but life hadn't been easy for me. Samuel's loss had only made my appreciation for Harriet even greater. I knew that was a fact.

"Heard that one before," she scoffed, sarcasm heavy in her voice and she shook her head. "You just don't get it. You with your pretty eyes and all your money, you get whatever you want. How hard is your life? You've probably never been depressed a day in your life. I'm sure that you've got a fancy car and house and everything that you've ever wanted."

As much as I cringe at myself for the first place that my mind went, something about the attitude that she was throwing my way reminded me of the way that April had been acting lately. The flamboyant, blunt words coming out without any hesitation, like she didn't give a damn. And it's a little weird that she's spot on with all of her assessments, but maybe it's easy to assume that. Big job, big money. It went hand in hand fair enough. I did get most of what I wanted, not a ton of obstacles in my way, not since I'd been a teenager.

"It's not all like that." I still have to disagree, even if there's a level of truth to her words.

"Yeah? Do you have any idea what it's like to hate yourself? To look in the mirror and be so disgusted by the person staring back at you that the best thing you can think of is fucking over your entire life? Do you just want to die because you know there's no point living anymore? No, you fucking haven't." Samantha snapped back at me without so much as a breath between. "No one gives a shit about me, not a single damn person, so why should I even bother? The only reason that you're here is that it's your frickin' job and you get paid for this shit at the end of the day."

"No, I don't," I answered with a sigh. Finishing up with one of her wrists, I pause to focus on talking to her. "But there are always people out there who care about you, even if you can't see it. Maybe they just don't know the right way to help you. For me? I don't do my job because of the money. I do it because it makes people's lives better. It makes them happier. I'm a plastic surgeon, primarily. Laugh at it, if you want. But I'm being honest."

The younger girl doesn't respond for a moment, just staring blankly at the wall. I take the opportunity to roll my stool around to her other side and start on her other wrist.

"You still don't get it," she finally insisted with a slight shake of her head.

"Then explain it to me," I offered up.

Silence is the first thing that Samantha offered me upon the challenge, but when she finally opens up to me, I let her speak without trying to interrupt her. I'd done a rotation on psychiatry back in medical school with slim interest, been quick to determine it wasn't the right thing from me, but I hadn't forgotten how to humanize and talk to people. Even if this was something that she would go through more in-depth with the psychiatrist who would come in, I gave her a chance.

But what she had to say to me did offer up more insight than what I'm expecting to hear from her or anyone else that I'd come to in this position. My work is slower than usual because of my intense focus on her words and actively listening and comprehending them, giving a few nods of her head to show that I was still listening and hadn't just tuned her out. It hurts to hear. All I could think about was Harriet was going to grow up in the same world, deal with all of the same things that this young woman had dealt with. And more, really. She had the added factor of race. I could only hope that she would inherit the strength of both her mother and grandmother, the resilience that I'd seen the other important people in my life display.

Even if April's lately had been, well… questionable at best. But it felt wrong to think about her in a moment like this.

I sit with her for a short time after I'd finished ups with tending to her wounds and ensuring that they were tightly closed with as minimal of a scar as was possible under the circumstances, and stay there until the psychiatrist comes down to talk with her. At that point, leaving was expected and I don't want to poke around in her head anymore. The questions that I had started to ask had shifted along the lines of her benefit to my own curiosities regarding my ex-wife.

Tossing used latex into one of the biohazard bins, it takes me a moment to just look around the emergency room, seeing if I could spot the same woman in my mind. Deluca, two of the interns, Hunt… but no April. Of course, she's probably at home asleep, with Harriet.

"Hey, did everything go alright?" Hunt approached me with the question. Those types of patients always got doctor attention, warranted or otherwise. It was a part of having a heart.

"Yeah, I think so," I nodded my head. "The psych's probably going to recommend committing her, I think. She needs some serious help…" My voice trails off, a frown forming on my mouth as I think further of April. She needed help, too. Maybe it wasn't to the same extent that Samantha did, I couldn't even imagine her beginning to do something like that when we both had Harriet. "I've uh, got some paperwork to go deal with," I said the words for the sake of a polite exit, but supply orders aren't on my to-do list, not at the moment.

No matter how many times that April tried to insist that she was fine, that we were fine, I knew that it still wasn't the truth.

Pulling open my laptop, I open up Chrome and stare at Google's search engine for what feels like a few long impossibly moments. Feeling stupid, the first thing that I type in is 'helping your ex-wife'. Skimming through the first three links that come up, only a few things stick out to me.

_Forming a relationship with your ex is entirely separate from the process of ending a marriage._

_The process that begins with anger and grieving eventually leads to healing, forgiveness, and insight._

_Face reality._

I sit on the last two words for a while. I knew that things with me and April were always going to be different, that our relationship and friendship would never be entirely likened to the one that we had before everything had happened. That made sense and the confirmation helps. And maybe right now… we were in the anger. The grieving. We'd never really had that stage, not in a proper sense, because she'd been pregnant with Harriet. We'd fought, but it'd hard to really be angry with her when she was carrying our child. Both of us had made piss poor decisions. And right now, both of us needed the healing, forgiveness, and insight. I just didn't know how to jump from this point to that.

Another Google search and I feel equally stupid typing it in, but right now I'm at a loss for where I'm supposed to go next in regards to her. 'Friend acting out' produced a few weird results off the top, but I go with the link with the clearest cut title and start there.

One of them had five clear steps, though, and all of them seem reasonable. I focus on it. _Give her space. Trust your gut. Schedule a time to talk. Confront with compassion. Listen._

I know that I've tried at least the first three with her – and honestly, maybe I'd given her too much space. Maybe if I'd been there for more actively, she wouldn't have been acting out in the way that she was right now. It's too late to change that. I'd trusted my gut even when Arizona had tried to wash away the worries, and she'd come turning back on that one around, at least. Talking with her had been a challenge, though. She'd shot down the coffee suggestion, following her out to her car hadn't been a particularly successful conversation. There'd been a little progress on the phone the other night, though. That was a start.

But had I offered her compassion? I thought so initially, but the more that I think about it, the more that I began to doubt myself. But maybe I'd been a little more accusatory than necessary. Reading through the words of advice offered on the page, I focus more on one particular cluster of sentences.

Allow her to speak without interruption and show her your support with gentle eye contact and physical touch, if appropriate. Be aware that you may not want to hear what she has to say. Maybe she wants to come clean about a resentment toward you. She may also not want to say anything at all.

For a moment, it's like the article was written just about the two of us.

Maybe I hadn't been listening, not in the way that she needed to be heard. I'd gotten stuck in the idea that this was about the two of us somehow, but… maybe it was just her. Maybe I hadn't been thinking enough about what was going on inside of her head, not really, because I'd be stuck in my own worry instead. Samantha's words played through my head once more as I thought about it.

_Do you have any idea what it's like to hate yourself?_

_No one gives a shit about me, not a single damn person, so why should I even bother?_

I don't know if April hated herself. I couldn't give an answer for that. She didn't treat herself with the love and respect that she deserved lately, but… maybe she'd never learned to. Maybe everyone else around her had finally affected the way that she was treating herself. It hadn't been as bad lately, I didn't think. She'd brought up Minnick and how we'd all cut her out after getting her arm twisted into saying yes for Bailey, and that hadn't been fair. It was a lot easier to see that how without the haze of confusion that knowing about my father had brought on at the time. But that wasn't near as bad as the way that we had all treated her back when we were residents, especially after she'd became chief resident. We'd all been little monsters to her.

And I was no exception to that, no matter how I tried to think of myself as different from everyone else. Even if we'd been married, I'd made the same mistakes with her. I'd cut her off, let her go. Then she'd been there for me in Montana without me asking, without me even initially wanting her there, in the best way possible. Her kindness and compassion for me, for everyone, had been never-ending. I'd taken advantage of it just as much as everyone else had. It'd taken so little for me to push her away and stop being there for her, yet she'd taken everything time after time. It was no wonder that she'd finally hit her breaking point. She'd had so much more patience than I ever did.

It would make sense as to why she'd been upset with me for the distance after, the sex that had been… well, anything but casual. Maybe it hadn't been something between husband and wife, but it'd definitely been something more than casual. I just hadn't treated her like she was more than that. The moving out, it made sense now. I'd made a long list of mistakes and it seemed like I was just at the beginning of realizing everything that I had done wrong to her.

Of course, April had made them too. She wasn't perfect. But even if she'd never offered the direct apology that I'd wanted from her, she'd tried to apologize in other ways. She'd fought hard and I had shot her down, time and time again.

Sighing, I shut my laptop and leaned back into my chair, folding my arms. How deep did this run? Even if she'd only been acting out quite as loudly in the past few days, maybe it'd been going on since she'd moved out in the first place. It's hard to say for sure. That's my own damn fault, too. I'd put the distance between us since then, I'd stepped back, not her.

"Shit," I swore under my breath. This was going to be a lot harder to figure out than what I'd thought in the first place. I fished my phone out of my pocket, unlocking it and staring at her contact in my phone for a moment. There'd been some productivity in our last phone call and maybe that was the best form of communication for us these days because she'd shot me down the last two times that I'd confronted her in person. But something about the distance of the phone didn't feel right, not when it was something this serious. Even if she hadn't gone as far off the deep end as the girl that I had talked to today, she was somewhere in the dark flickering in resemblance to the woman that I had once known and loved before. I couldn't just leave her there, waiting to be blown out.

I place my phone down on the table and run a hand over my face, letting out a heavy sigh. This was something that the two of us needed to talk about in person, not over the phone. I'm not going to risk awakening her at this hour, either.

I give a shit. I was going to have to make her see that, too.


	4. Chapter 4

_**JACKSON** _

It's a damn miracle that I get April to agree to go to brunch with me. A quick text conversation, suggesting it between the three of us on a Sunday morning. Maybe it's a little too reminiscent of some of the things that we'd talked about doing when we were married, but if it gets her to agree, that's all that mattered to me. And everything between us was always easier with Harriet there.

I'd kept up with my research into ways to effectively help her and spiraled into all kinds of Internet forums after dealing so personally with Samantha. Even if I didn't think that April was in the same place that young woman had been in, she was still spiraling to somewhere dark, somewhere that she didn't need to be. Especially not alone. And I didn't even want to think about the possibility of her reaching a place like that. No matter what our divorce might have said to her about the relationship between us, I never wanted to live my life without her in it. I couldn't imagine a world without her. I didn't want to. Losing Samuel, it had been hard enough to try and piece my life back together after. I couldn't go through anything remotely near that again.

We plan to meet at a cafe close to her house, and I get up earlier than usual for my days off to make sure that I'm on time. It gave me time to wake up and go over everything I'd been sifting through in regards to her.

Normally she goes to church at the 9:30 service so I'd suggested we meet at 11, but I arrive a few minutes early to get us a decent table and a high chair set up for Harriet, as well as beat the crowd of people that normally came in once the church service let out. Much to my surprise, though, when I gave a habitual look around the place after entering, April and Harriet are already situated at a table by the window and she's sipping at a cup of coffee. Huh. Maybe she'd gone to the earlier service this morning.

"Hey," I greeted the both of them as I bent down to kiss my daughter on top of her curls, then sat down across from April. "You're here early," I remarked.

"Yeah, early worm gets the bird and all." She shrugged off.

I examined her for a brief moment, unable to get rid of the distinct feeling that there was something missing. It clicks when I realize that she's not wearing a necklace, and the earrings she had on were some plain studs. I'd never seen her go to church without a cross on some piece of jewelry and I glance down at her wrists – just her normal watch, no rings, no nothing. That was weird. I know there's no way she'd go for something like an anklet or body jewelry, but it's uncharacteristic of her to not have on a cross necklace or earrings on a Sunday morning. I hadn't even gotten so much as a glass of water yet and I was already analyzing her decisions.

"How was church this morning?" I keep the question an innocent one, not wanting to suggest right off the bat that she hadn't gone to it in the first place.

"I didn't go," she shrugged it off as if it was no big deal.

I pause for a moment as the waitress brought over a cup of water for me and ordered a coffee, then give her my full attention once again. "Why not?"

"Why do you care?" Her answer is sharp. "It's not like you're suddenly praising Jesus."

"I care because it's something that you've always cared about." Patience is something we both needed, and I make a conscious effort to be exactly that with her. "We used to talk about doing this, you know. Brunch after church." I reminded her softly.

"Yeah, well, God hasn't exactly been sticking around for me these days," she remarked dryly, picking up her cup of coffee and taking a long sip from it. "So why should I try and be there for him?"

Harriet momentarily distracts the both of us from the sudden heavy turn of conversation, throwing the cup of juice from her tray and onto the floor. Me too, kiddo… I think and hold back the sigh as I get up to pick it up, wiping it down with a napkin before placing it back in front of her.

"Well, I'm not the person to talk you into any of that kind of stuff…" I gave a one-shoulder shrug. "But can I ask what brought this off? It doesn't make me worry about you any less, hearing that kind of thing. You used to always think that he was there for you. I mean, even after Samuel, you kept soldiering through, praying…"

April sighed loudly. "Am I incapable of change?" She suggested.

"No, it's not that at all," I shook my head quickly. "It's just after thirty-five years of being into it, seems kind of like a sudden change. With that and all of the going out that you've been doing lately, I hate to see you not acting like yourself." I implored her gently, trying not to overstep but wanting to make sure that my concern for her was clear.

"After thirty-five years, I finally realized that God couldn't give less of a crap about all of us. He's just another absentee father." She rolled her eyes, hands idly toying with her napkin.

"Do you really believe that's true?" I questioned, leaning forward so my elbows rested on the table.

She chuckled her tongue, shrugging at me. "Seems a lot more reasonable than anything else does at this point."

The conversation stayed there for a moment when the waitress came over to take both of our orders. It's hard for me to argue anything religious with her when I'd never thought that it was any more than something people turned to for comfort, not a lot of validity actually behind it. But I feel like with her, I have to. Because she won't do it for herself anymore, and that was something that she needed to have with her.

"Is there something that brought all of this on?" I prompted her gently, eyebrows raised.

"Uh…" her fingers pattered against the table restlessly, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation even if she hadn't shot it down yet. "Cumulation of events, I guess. I wouldn't pin it on anything specific other than me finally opening up my eyes," April gave me a vague answer. I knew that she had been through a lot. We both had. Yet I'd never expected it to weigh on her and have this kind of effect, either. She'd always been so strong, so gracious despite the face of adversity coming for her time and time again.

"Well, you've been through a lot," I offered up. "Honestly, after Harriet's birth, I'm surprised you didn't completely lose it." Mostly because I had lost in the moment. I thought I'd lost her – even if it meant getting my daughter, that was the kind of wound that I would have never been able to recover through.

"Yeah…" She trailed off dismissively, looking away.

I lean back in my chair for a moment and eye her as if there was something there that would give away everything that she was going through. Doubting her faith was one thing, but I felt like the root of the cause had to be the bigger thing at play here. Except she wouldn't actually open up about whatever that was. Maybe I was looking into it too deep, but that didn't feel right. _Trust your gut._ The words through my head once more and I decide that I need to go with it. I'd been right the first time with Arizona, and there was a good chance that I was right again.

"Maybe I did." April scoffed, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, a hand running over her face.

"You're still the strongest person that I know," I empathized with her quickly, unable to help myself as I leaned forward and placed my hand on one of her forearms. "And if there's anything that you need, anything at all…" I trailed off. She knew where that statement was going.

"The only thing I need is to figure this out on my own," she retorted quickly. "Not with people who are going to come and go as they please, hang me out to dry whenever it bests suits them."

There's the sting that I had been waiting for, the brutal honesty that I honestly don't want to hear. But this wasn't about me. I needed to take a step back, detach myself from the way that she could hurt myself, and just listen and accept what she was saying. Whether or not it was the actual truth, it was her version of it. And she deserved to have that listened to, even if it wasn't going to make me particularly happy. This was for her, about her. I could do this much after everything she'd done for me.

"April, I uh…" _Apologize, you idiot._ "I'm sorry that I haven't always been there for you in the way that you deserve. I've made mistakes. But I don't want to keep making those mistakes for you. Even if we can never go back to being those best friends that we were before all of this, I want to be here for you. In whatever way you need me. We have a kid together. Kids. That means everything to me. You have given me everything. And I want to be able to give you something too, April. I want to be able to help you with what you're going through."

There's a heavy silence as she processed the words that I said. It's easy to see on her face that it hadn't been what she'd expected me to say, but I feel like I'd hit it on the head. She'd been making it clearer and clearer some of the issues that she had with me, the constant references to me leaving her behind. That had to be apart of it. But she hadn't pulled away from me yet. Maybe that meant something.

She finally let out another sigh and broke the silence.

"Thanks." She started, and there's a long pause before she continued where I'm not sure if my words had really been received. "It's kind of hard to bet on you after everything, though, you realize that, right? Even if I can forgive you, it's not like all of that stuff between us just disappears."

"I know," I answered quickly with a nod. My hand slipped from her arm to her hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'm not trying to erase that, either. I just want you to know that from here on out, I'm going to do better at it."

April pulled her hand out of mine, but I can just barely catch the hints of a smile on her face even if it's nothing near the full blown ones that I'd managed to get out of her in the past. That's something. That's better than a lot of the things that she'd given me lately. I can't complain.

When our food arrives, it puts the conversation at bay for a few minutes. I'm starving and eager to scarf down my plate of waffles, and the two of us alternate between making sure that Harriet gets a fair share of food actually in her mouth instead of just on her face or smeared against the table. She's a little bit of a messy eater, but she's not picky. She'll eat most things, just never a lot of anything actually ended up in the right place. Guess she managed to get that much from me.

There's plenty of talk about when it came to our daughter, and work is usually the second most frequent topic on our list. The two things that we still share no matter what else happened between the two of us. Her cases were a little more interesting to listen to by most standards because of the chaotic nature of trauma surgery, and I had a hell of a lot more scheduled and elective ones than she did. But when she turned the question of interesting cases back around on me, all I can think about to answer is dealing with Samantha the other night.

"Uh, I guess…" I sighed, bracing myself. "I don't know. Interesting probably isn't the right word. Hunt had me take care of a girl who attempted suicide this week."

"Oh." It's an awkward thing to discuss, clearly, even if she had probably seen much more of that in the emergency room than I had. Even though we both knew stuff like that happened, it was something that we'd never really talked about. It'd never come up, not in any real detail. But some of the things that Samantha had said, the way that she had prompted me to think more about what was going on in April and get more involved in a meaningful way of helping her, I can't leave her forgotten.

"She just said some stuff, it kind of made me think of you, to be honest." Before I can explain what I meant, she's already begun to interrupt me.

"What? You think just because I'm not acting like myself lately, I'm going to try and kill myself? Seriously? We have a daughter, Jackson. I'm not going to just leave her behind like that. That's– wow, that's selfish. I can't believe you'd even–"

"April, stop." The sudden firmness in my tone cut her off before she could take it any further. "That's not what I'm getting at. No, I don't think you'd do that. I know that you wouldn't leave behind Harriet under any circumstances," I clarified. "Also, it's not selfish. Not at all. But that's not the point that I'm trying to get at here. She talked about feeling alone, April, like no one cared about her. And… if you were to feel that way, I could understand why."

I watched her lips twist into something nearly resembling a frown, and she focused away from me as a moment to dab at Harriet's chin. It's hard to tell which part of my comment is getting under her skin but it seemed like it was still some form of progress.

"At least now I know who apparently got your head screwed on straight," April finally commented. "It's nice, that you're acting like this again… but I really can't take another 180 on your part. If you're going to start being there and being my friend again, great. But I'm going to need something a little more than just your word this time."

That was fair. I probably would have wanted the same thing out of her too if the tables had been turned. I was trying hard to listen but all I could think about was how I was supposed to act, what I could do for her – I wanted to take it the next step instinctively. But this wasn't something that could be rushed even if that would have made my own life that much easier to deal with, fixing things between us and snapping back to where we use to be. But she really had built up a wall against that this time, she wasn't going to let it come back down without a substantial reason for why it should have. I could respect that. I would have to if I wanted any chance of this thing actually working out.

"I mean it, April. And I'll work on proving it to you." I said sincerely, a small smile just managing to make its way across my features. This was the most honest that either of us had been with each other for weeks and it felt nice, having something there again. It felt like some kind of middle distance was finally closing between the two of us.

When she looked up to meet my gaze, April offered a smile of her own. It's nice to see it on her face again, even if there's something tired mixed in the curve of her lips that doesn't fully light up her eyes. But before I can comment aloud about it, Harriet's making noise to draw attention. She's squealing in delight, pointing and laughing at something, and we both light up in a much more genuine way than what the serious nature of our conversation had allowed us too. Someone had walked in, a kid of their own with a balloon tied around their wrist. Tiny hand waves around and slammed against the table with her giggles.

"There's my girl," I murmured. April still had a bit of omelet left on her plate so I slide closer to our daughter, picking her up from the highchair and holding her on my lap, her back against my chest so that she could get a better look at both the stranger with the balloon and her own mother. "Maybe we need to go get you a balloon of your own, huh? Is that what you want, sweetheart?" I kissed the top of her head after speaking.

"Ma–ma. Ma–ma. Da–da." She babbled loudly.

"Atta girl," I encouraged her, bouncing my knee lightly to make sure that she stayed entertained and somewhat on the quiet side for the duration of April eating. Taking kids out in public could always be a challenge but she was good about a lack of screaming fits, for the most part. She usually just yelled single syllables. I glanced up from my daughter to her mother, unsurprised by the beaming look of joy that was written across her face as she eyed her. If there was anything that would ensure that she would pull through it, it really was Harriet. I'd help in whatever way that I could, but she was the real source of April's joy and meaning.

I take the check and pay when the waitress dropped it off no matter the habitual comment that she gives about paying for her own meal, brushing it off without a lot of thought and dismissing it on the bit that we had ordered for Harriet. It's a load of crap, of course, and she knows it. I pay for her and her frugality only made me enjoy it more.

"I'll walk you out to your car," I suggested when everything was wrapped up, standing up and putting Harriet on my hip. Another minute with my daughter was an excuse, but I did want to see her off, make sure that everything really was okay with her. Even if walking her out to her vehicle wasn't going to make a lick of difference with that, I just don't want to take my gaze off of her in the first place. I knew that she had the day off and she wasn't going to do anything reckless with Harriet around, but the feeling of concern lingering inside of my apparently didn't have access to that same knowledge. I can't help but look at her like she's about to lung off the deep end.

It's not worth the argument apparently but she doesn't say another word about it. We stroll to the parking lot across the street at a leisure pace, with me carrying Harriet and letting her walk ahead slightly. I'm watching her, mostly, even if there's nothing really to watch at the moment. I'm just worried that the moment I take my eyes off her, something's going to happen, something would come flying out of the blue and ruin all of the progress that we had made today. If I hadn't done it yet, then surely something else that would come around. We'd had a long trail of bad luck and it was a little hard to trust it to turn around now.

I lingered around to help get Harriet strapped securely into her car seat and when we both straighten up with the completed task, I can tell she's expecting me to say something further. This time, though, there's no preplanned statement lingering on the tip of my tongue. When I don't say anything after a few seconds, she instead breaks the silence.

"Thanks for today," April said.

There's something genuine there, something more than just a casual brunch between two friends, two co-parents. We both know it. There's so much more that I want to say and do for her. At the moment, really, all I want to do is pull her into my arms and hug her, hold her so securely and squeeze the doubt out of her system. To stroke her hair and tell her that everything was going to be alright, that she was going to be okay and we would figure out whatever she was going through together. But I don't. That's a boundary, a crossed line. I know it, one matter that my brain and gut would just have to disagree on.

Instead, I offer her a smile and clap her shoulder in the same way that I would have done with Karev or anyone else. "Anytime, kid." Little nickname slips out, affectionate but not in the way that could be mistaken for the ideas of our past relationship.

She smiled back at me gently before getting into her car and I get out of her way, lingering by the Honda that she had parked next to and watched her drive away. I stand there for a few minutes before letting out the breath that I'd been holding onto for a few long moments, relieved that this morning hadn't turned into a complete disaster like I had been worried about. It really felt like some kind of difference had been made there. I could only hope that from here it would actually keep up. My hand reached into my pocket, pulling out my own keys before heading across the floor of the garage to my own car and getting in.


	5. Chapter 5

**_APRIL_ **

After weeks with my walls up, it’s hard to let them down. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to let it down at all, no matter what anyone said to or about me, yet… it’s exhausting. This isn’t me. I know it’s not and yet I keep rolling through with it night after night, pretending that I’m okay with it. I need something to be okay with when everything else was falling apart around me. But I don’t want Jackson to be my savior. I can’t give that to him. I want to be my own savior. No, I need to be.

But that didn’t mean that I had to push away all help, maybe. All heroes had their sidekicks.

Harriet was with Jackson tonight, though, and it’s out of habit that I pull a wine glass down from the cabinet and open up the bottle of rosé that had been patiently waiting in my fridge. I pour myself a generous glass of the light pink liquid before I take pause to realize what I’m doing.

I’m at home, there’s no one else there. I have no intention of drunk booty calling Roy, either. It was less and less satisfying each time. Picking up the bottle, I stare at the label for a moment. Whispering Angel. It pissed me off. I can’t pin down a reason why, but rage surged through me for a moment. I dump the rest of it down the drain without thinking, walking out to the garage and tossing the now empty bottle into the recycling bin.

“Well, at least I’m not getting drunk tonight,” I speak to myself. There’s a pause as I stare at the recycling bins, newspaper and a variety of bottles mostly, a few receipts. “And now I’m talking to myself,” I shook my head, slamming the garage door as I walk out.

Even if I’d tossed the rest of the bottle, I’m not going to waste the glass that I already poured. It gets consumed with a little too much haste behind it. Normally one (or, realistically, one a half) glass wouldn’t have much of an effect on me. But downing it quickly sends it straight to my head. Bad idea. My ability to care is still low, yet one massive glass was better than the whole bottle.

I fall into bed and stretch across the mattress obnoxiously, sighing. I’d already changed into pajamas but I don’t bother with getting underneath the covers. It’s decent enough.

Suddenly just stretched out there, though, I feel more alone than anything I have in weeks.

The tears spring up in my eyes only moments later and there’s a tightness in my chest that was suddenly all-consuming. I can’t fight it and I let the wave of emotion come without trying to fight it anymore. My chest heaved as I let it all out, eyes red and swollen, only getting worse with each time I rub it – first with my fists and then my shirt, trying to dry it. More salty tears are instead produced time after time. I’m alone. Utterly alone. Without my daughter, it’s suddenly like there’s not a single person in the world who cares about me. I could sink away, disappear as if I hadn’t left an impact. And she was the only one who it would really impact. She would be the one growing up without a mother, she’d never remember my voice. How could Jackson think that was ever something that I would want to do to her intentionally? I couldn’t imagine anything crueler.

Eventually, there’s nothing more that my tear ducts are capable of producing, and I’m nothing more than a dry heaving mess. I’m exhausted, worn down completely from the emotional release. Somehow I feel better and worse at the same time, and I don’t know what to make of it. But I fall asleep before I have to try and evaluate everything spinning around through my head.

Waking up the next morning, I’d forgotten about the breakdown until I get out of bed and see how red and swollen my eyes are in the morning. A steaming shower helps to clear out some of my system and I down coffee and an energy bar quickly, apple washed and carried with me to munch on while I make my morning commute. I wasn’t as bad of a driver as everyone made me out to be. Eating an apple wasn’t going to be much of a big deal. And it wasn’t. I get to work without even swearing at someone.

All I want to do is see my daughter, though, and I make my way down to daycare. She’s not there yet so I wait outside until I finally see my little girl approaching in her father’s arm, hearing her eagerly calling out for me. Nothing warmed me more than that.

“Hi, my little boo-bear,” I cooed as I welcome her into my arm for Jackson’s.

“Hey,” Jackson greeted me with a smile. “You look good.”

I glance up at him with an arched eyebrow, letting the tiny action say more than anything else.

“I mean, you don’t look hungover, or anything,” he half-rectified his previous words.

“That would be because I’m not,” I answer with a shrug of one shoulder, blowing raspberries on my daughter’s chubby little cheeks lovingly. “I just wanted to see my little nugget this morning. Momma missed you so much last night. Oh, yes she did,” I smother her with love.

Before I can get all of the love and affection that I want out of the one-year-old, my pager is going off. It’s with a sigh that I handed her back to Jackson, giving a goodbye kiss before I’m running down to the E.R. to see what’s going on.

“What have we got?” I approach Hunt with the question, watching him already get a gown on. I join him quickly, turning around and lifting up my ponytail so he can tie the neck for me.

“Pastor got nearly ripped to shreds, tried to step in with a deal gone wrong. Multiple bullet wounds to the abdomen.” He explained quickly. The two of us step outside to meet the ambulance as it pulled up with roaring sirens to the bay, listening to the details of his condition that the paramedics rattled off quickly and accepting it. No good information was to be heard, that was becoming clear abundantly fast.

They barely get him inside of a trauma room before the man had begun coding.

“Crash cart!”

Chest compressions follow rapidly, Hunt slamming down into his chest to keep his heart beating. We shocked him multiple times before his heart rhythm finally began to pick back up on the monitor and they let out a held in breath. As long as I had been a woman of faith and admired people like this man, at the moment, even I wasn’t expecting him to come back from the other side. And I had to scoff when one of the nurses made a rightful comment about Pastor John being given some kind of God-given miracle. Of course.  
“The only miracle it is is the miracle of medicine.” I retorted.

Hunt gave me a funny look and I ignored it for the time being. The work to get him stable enough to get him upstairs into one of the operating rooms, where we spent hours piecing together his abdomen again. There would be scars that he would never be able to get rid of, and one of his kidneys was beyond repair, getting removed. The liver repair and bowel repairs are messy and grueling, and he’d no doubt be dealing with a colonoscopy bag from here on forward. He seemed to be in otherwise good enough condition that one should be enough for him to live if he made it through surgery and recovery. But that was riding on a big if.

By the time that we finished up in the O.R. and one of the residents was taking him down to recover in post-op, I felt… weird. It wasn’t as if I’d never seen a holy man inside of my emergency room or operating room before. It wasn’t a particularly common thing, sure, perhaps because of a dwindling population. But something just doesn’t sit right with me at the moment.

“Everything alright?” Hunt questioned, concerned eyes turning my way once more.

“Yeah. Just had a long night, I guess,” I tried to shrug it off, letting out a sigh before offering up a smile. I didn’t want him to worry about me, not over this. “I’m fine, though,” I brush off, going to grab a snack before returning to the E.R. as quickly as I could to try and get my mind off of things. It works, for a little while. But it doesn’t last.

Pacing is satisfying for at least a few minutes, but I’m aching for something more. What I really want is to just get my hands on another good, grey case, but it seemed like that had been my big hit of the day. Even when it’s what I want to avoid. I can’t decide if that was making things better or worse inside of my head, but either way, my mind was driving me crazy. I catch up on paperwork, but I’m not about to go deal with infected pimples. That was why interns existed. I can only avoid the inevitable for so much longer.

The elevator drags on slowly up to the floor where my patient was waiting. I needed to check on him. I can minimize my interest as much as I want to, but there’s something deeper going on there that I can’t ignore. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I couldn’t afford to. But… there was a tiny part of me, falling back into old habits, that felt as if God had come straight to me because I wasn’t going to him anymore. It felt silly.

I nearly don’t step out when the doors finally open up to the floor, but I’ve already made it this far. There’s no point in lallygagging around and leaving myself unsatisfied.

Peeping my head into the room, one of the interns was already tending to him. He was conscious, drinking water. Both good signs, even if his mobility was otherwise rather limited for the sake of not causing himself any more agony. Morphine had been administered, of course, but after that kind of surgery, no one wanted to move. I wait until Schmitt had finished up with him before I enter the room myself.

“Hi there, I’m Dr. Kepner. I was one of your surgeons,” I greeted with a polite smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Very lucky,” his voice was raw as he took another sip from the plastic cup.

“Well, you were in luck. Unfortunately, we had to remove one of your kidneys, but you should otherwise make a full recovery. It’s going to be a few long days here in recovery, and some physical therapy, but it’s all very manageable,” I explained calmly.

“Would it be too cliche of me to say anything is possible with The Lord on your side?” Pastor John responded, giving a slight chuckle before groaning at the pain that it must have caused.

“I think that’s your answer,” I replied with a one-shoulder shrug.

There were a lot of things on my mind that I wanted to ask him, things that maybe weren’t fair or right when he was a patient of mine. But I’d been thinking about God more and more, during the surgery, and now. I couldn’t forget everything that I had known. _I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing._ John 15:5. I’d recited the verses many times, and now I had to question it.

Was I not doing enough? I thought that I’d been a loyal servant all this time. I dedicated my life to helping people, to saving people. I’d stopped hiding my faith a long time ago and now wore it with a sense of pride, or at least I had, even with the judgment of my coworkers. Had I somehow failed him? I know the verse inside and out. The solution isn’t to try to bear fruit; the solution is to start abiding. Fruit comes from abiding. And works come from living faith. But how can faith be revived? How could it be now? What had I done to get to this point? I knew it was gone now, I could feel that empty hollow rocking sound inside of me. It’d ravaged me and left me bare. 

“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” the pastor drew me out of my thoughts and I realized that I’d fallen silent both as a doctor and a woman questioning her faith. I take a deep breath and force a smile for a moment, looking for the right words to possibly express what was going on inside of me. “I’ve been told that I’m a good listener.”

There’s another pause, and then I spill.

I empty out everything that’s going on inside of me, all of my doubts, why I felt like I had failed as a person, as a mother, as a Christian. Maybe not as a doctor, not fully yet, but that was coming too. I’d had a hard week of losses, even if he hadn’t managed to be one of them just yet. And I was grateful for that, I was. But it didn’t repair everything else that had happened, either. There was reassurance in the mere fact that this man was alive, that his life had been saved. Was it by me? Was God the one who had guided me through his surgery? Maybe he was still looking out for me, one way or another. Maybe I’d been ignoring his presence in my life all this time. But speaking of Samuel, it reminded me too vividly of my pain. And the way that nothing had been able to piece back together my marriage, how it had felt as if no one on my side, that had committed to it once more. It ached more and more with everything that came out. I don’t stop until absolutely everything is out of my system.

When he speaks, I cling to absolutely everything that he had to say. I need it now more than ever.

“Faith is ultimately just a work of God. So start by coming to Jesus Christ as you are, and trust his power to change your heart. Trust him as your redemption and perfect righteousness. Trust him as your Savior, your Lord. Confess your lack of works. Receive fresh assurance that you are fully and freely forgiven through his death on the cross and by faith united to the living one who is your righteousness. Ask God to revive, strengthen, and help your faith.” Something about the way that he speaks feels recited and yet it still reverberates deep in my core, striking a chord that lingers.

“I trusted him for so long. And I worked for him for so long,” I explained, steadying myself to keep the worst of it from coming out. “And… I can’t help but feel betrayed by him. Like I was doing absolutely everything right in my life and it just didn’t make a difference. I was a good woman for so long, despite everything that turned against me.”

“You’re disappointed in him, aren’t you?” He questioned me softly.

I nodded in agreement, unable to say the words out loud. It’s the truth. Disappointment. The identifying emotion resonated with me, but it felt wrong to say directly to him.

“You have faithfully and earnestly worked for him your whole life. I understand. Do you know Psalm 34:10?” He asked.

My mind reeled for a moment before I can recall the particular quote. “The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.”

“This promise is for those who seek the Lord — those who are saved by faith in Christ and who are seeking to know him more. God promises that those who seek him will lack no good thing. Which means, if something is good, God will give it to you. Now that’s hard to swallow. You’ve been through some of the most unimaginable and painful things that a woman can go through. So how is God fulfilling his promise to you? I’m sure that you’ve read 2nd Corinthians. 2:19. ‘ _But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me_ ’.” I recognize the quote, even if I couldn’t have produced it quite as easily from my own mind.

And I begin to know where he’s going with it. I’ve heard it in other terms, non-Biblical terms, from sayings that I’d never fully understood. Beauty comes from pain. Strength in suffering. Easy things to throw out when there’s nothing else to say.

“So when you’re disappointed by God, there’s a problem with my faith. You’re not trusting that God himself is who he says he is for you in Jesus. You’re not trusting in him as my all-satisfying treasure. It’s because at that moment there’s something you’re longing for more than him. None of them will come close to satisfying me as much as God himself.” Pastor John continued.

I have to question for a moment whether or not there was real truth behind his words. There had been some kind of safekeeping in knowing that he was up there, taking care of Samuel. It had been one of the few thoughts capable of calming me, of helping me get through it. My bad boy had been baptized. On the worst day of my life, making sure that happened for him had been one of the most important things. It'd taken away a few moments that would have been just between me and Jackson and no one else. I had prioritized that, my love for Him, on one of the worst days of my life. So why did I suddenly lack the strength to do it now? Why had I let myself be pushed over the edge by something that would pale in comparison to Samuel’s loss?

“How do I stop feeling that way?” My voice breaks with the question finally falling from my lips, but this time, I don’t hide away in embarrassment with the question. I need help, and I need it desperately. I can’t afford to be shy about it.

“Tell me John 6:35,” he no longer requests it. He knows my familiarity with the word ran deeper than my doubting faith did.

I take a deep breath, combing through my head for it. “Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.’”

“Plead for the work of the Spirit to change your heart, strengthen your faith, and enable you once again to experience Jesus Christ.” He elaborated on the quote for me, but it’s words that I know. Or at least had known, at some point. Now everything else seemed a little shakier. 

“Thank you.” I breathe out. I can’t recall the last time that I’ve meant the two simple words as much as I do at the moment, but sitting here, I realize how much I desperately needed this conversation. I had been avoiding church and my personal pastor for weeks, turning my back on it as much as possible. My hands come up to my eyes, quickly wiping beneath them to try and get rid of the wetness that had already been produced. 

Before I leave the room and stop bothering him completely, though, I make sure that his vitals and everything else looks fine. I check the site of his incision to make sure there’s no visible infection forming, and everything checked out fine. I offer a few more gracious thanks to him, feeling slightly as if I’d taken advantage of his situation. But he hadn’t seemed to mind. He had a similar job, in a very basic sense. What he did ran deeper than the time he spent at church. He wanted to help people no matter where he was or what was going on. A true saint of a human being.

When I do finally walk out, for the first time in a long time, there’s a real, authentic smile on my face.

I go through the rest of my shift without having to think so heavily on topics that had been bothering me for days. I’m not completely steady, but I’m at least a lot better off than I had been in the past days. I don’t snap off at every around me, and I’m sure the interns appreciated the break from my attitude lately more than anyone else did.

Wrapping up at the end of the day and getting changed in the attending lounge, I’m a little disappointed to be alone in there. I want to talk to someone, to have some kind of social interaction now that there’s not the same heaviness weighing at my heart. I need to get it out of my system. I’m not obsessively thinking about the fact that I’m going home to an empty house, but even when the thought crossed my mind, it doesn’t burden me in the same way that it had before. I’ve become infinitely more comfortable within my own head. But I’ve still got the itching urge to talk to someone. That wasn’t going to go away quite so easily.

I drive home without bothering anyone, popping leftovers into the microwave quickly to ease my rumbling stomach. Normally I’d go for the oven, but tonight I’m in a hurry. And I don’t feel the same need to indulge in the physical properties of life that I have lately.

Bouncing restlessly as my microwave buzzed, I unlock it and merely stare at the screen for a moment. The background picture is one of Harriet, a bit of an older one. I’ve got plenty of more recent ones on my phone but it’s one of my favorites and I don’t plan on changing it anytime soon. But the more I think about my daughter and how much I wanted nothing more than to hold her at the moment and dance around with her in the kitchen, sing her a song, I start to think about the person that she’s with. And as much of an atheist as Jackson was, he might just be the only person in the world who cares about the conversation that I’d had with Pastor John.

My microwave finally beeps to alert me that my food’s ready, and for a moment, I ignore it. I open up my messages and go to him immediately, the last thing between us is a picture he’d sent me of Harriet and my squeeing in response.

_Sent: Hey, how’s my little nugget doing?_

Breaking the ice, being casual about it. When a picture of my sleeping little angel appeared only a few moments later, a huge smile broke out across my face. There are dozens of pictures exchanged between us, one of the things that had always been constant even after I’d moved out. There was nothing that stood a chance between the two of us being awesome co-parents, even if we weren’t always on the same page when it came to personal matters.

_Received: Sleeping like an angel._

_Sent: That’s because she is one._

I type the comment without even thinking about it, smiling comfortably to myself. The conversation flowed without much effort, no tension or awkwardness there. That’s definitely a nice change. I take a deep breath, pulling my food out of the microwave finally before I send the message that I actually wanted to share.

_Sent: I had a really, really good conversation today. Do you have a few minutes? I want to call you._

A little bold. Or maybe it’s not at all, but it definitely felt that way.

I don’t get a text back, instead, my phone rings and his contact picture comes up: he and Harriet, of course. I answer without any hesitation.

And the two of us talk for nearly an hour like there was nothing bad in the world that had ever happened between the two of us. he doesn’t criticize or make any disparaging remarks about my religious beliefs, doesn’t question me for finding something meaningful in today’s work. And it felt amazing to just be able to open up about it to him without anything weird, without feeling like he was only listening to me because he had to. It was the first time that I’d been able to have a real conversation about him with my religion without feeling like he was just sitting there and judging me for it. It was the first time that he had actually encouraged me to it.

When I fall asleep tonight, there are no tears.


	6. Chapter 6

**_ APRIL _ **

It’s nice to be able to get out of bed in the morning without any kind of ailment or soreness in my body, rolling out and into the shower. I haven’t had many good mornings lately but this was already one of them. I take advantage of it while I still can, popping microwave in the bacon and cooking two fried eggs. It’s been awhile since I’d actually put together a real breakfast for myself.

With the extra time taken in the morning, by the time I actually get to work, I’m right off to it. No time for visits down at daycare – though the idea is tempting for lunch. The one consistent thing about the E.R. was that there was always something to do.

Busying myself doesn’t take a lot of time. Overbearing parents with careless children, the drunk and the disorderly, the occasional page for a psych consult. Nothing unusual. But nothing that garnered any particular interest of mine, either, especially not after yesterday. When there’s finally a few free moments, slow enough that I can trust the interns and residents to take care of maintaining things, I make my way upstairs and check for his room number. He’s awake and vibrant, chatting with what was presumably one of his coworkers from the way that the standing male in the room was dressed.

“Ah! Here’s the young lady that I was just telling you about. Dr. Kepner, meet Pastor Thomas.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I greeted the other pastor with a smile and firm handshake.

“It’s a pleasure, Dr. Kepner. Pastor John here has been telling me about what you’re going through.”

My head drops with a blush flooding to my cheeks for a moment, shaking it off as quickly as I can to look back up at the both of them with a more forced smile. “Uh, well, I’m glad that you’re feeling well enough to chatter. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.” I offered.

“Quite well,” he answered with a polite smile.

There are more questions that I want to ask him and I was lucky enough that I’d become comfortable with his presence. Having another pastor in the room was throwing me off my game just a little bit – feeling a little more overwhelmed than what I had when it had just been the two of us. It’s a little harder to try and open up with all of the questions that were roaming through my head, but I still felt good from everything that had been discussed between the two of us yesterday. I’d been so disconnected from my spiritual side lately, and he had been able to open me back up to find that connection within myself once more.

But before I even had the chance to inquire, chaos broke out in the room.

The beeping on the monitor suddenly jumps up for a moment before the male slumped back against his bed. There’s a pause for a few milliseconds, the kind that comes in when you know the person on the table when it’s more than just another stranger who came rolling in and out of the emergency room. Then comes action.

Quickly stepping in between the two pastors, I’m shouting. “Code blue! He’s in v-tach. Crash cart!” And I’m panicking. Normally I’m cool under pressure, it’s something that I had become used to. I’d always been good as a trauma surgeon no matter how much of a mess I was as a person on occasion, I’d always been able to keep my cool when it came to work. But this was one of those moments where it seemed like it was testing my patience, testing my ability to separate my personal life from my work. And I feel like I’m already failing before I even have the chance to shock him.

One hand folded over the other as I move to perform CPR quickly, waiting for the nurses to come in the room and assist. It takes them mere seconds to come in and get into place, sliding the board underneath Pastor John so I can shock him. One of them takes over chest compressions for a minute as I grab the paddles and they charge up.

“Clear!” I announce harshly, slight moment pause given to allow the hands to be lifted off of the pastor’s body before the paddles are pressed to him, electricity jolting through him. There’s a pause of the measures taken to save his life, waiting for some kind of sign to come. When none comes, I sign before giving out the order. “Charge again, 200.” In the background of my hearing, I can hear praying and muttering. I want it to work, I want him to come through – I need some kind of sign. I need it more than anything else at the moment, I can’t let this man die. A deep breath is taken before I order them to clear again and shock his chest again, praying without even thinking about it for this man’s life to be saved.

It doesn’t work, not the second time. It’s not till the third shock that his heartbeat returned to a normal pattern and I can find it in myself to breathe again, realizing after a moment that there are tears forming. I return the paddles to the cart quickly, wiping my eyes.

I’d lost count years ago about how many people I had shocked, how many people I had watched die in front of me in cruel and unforgiving circumstances. And there was a part of me that I’d had to shut down from reacting years ago. There was no way to feel all of the grief and be able to survive as a trauma surgeon. Yet for a moment, that part of me is there, full force, begging for release. I have to bury it.

“Is he okay?” Pastor Thomas asked as he reentered the room.

“For now,” I answered with an unsteady nod, trying to hide how shaken up I was. He was the patient, not me. I couldn’t afford to be fixated on my own problems when there were literal lives depending on me being able to hold it together for the rest of the day.

“Are you?” It’s the last time that I’m expecting him to ask. But he’s a pastor. Of course he knew.

“Of course,” my answer was too fast, easy to see through.

“Would you like to join me in the chapel? John mentioned that you were a woman of God.” He suggested. I feel like I should shoot it down, like it was unprofessional, something that any of my coworkers would have mocked me for had they seen it. But I can’t bring myself to decline.

We walk side by side in silence and take the elevator down to the multi-faith room. It’s empty much to my relief, and I take a moment to light a candle. I don’t know if it’s for Pastor John, or for myself. But it burned brightly regardless.  
“How long have you two worked together?” I question politely, needing the silence broken.

“Nearly twenty years now, but I’ve known him since I was a child. I’ve lived here in Seattle my whole life. My parents used to take me to his services on Sunday,” he answered with a soft smile. We both sat down in a pew together, leaving a small space between us. I don’t want to attach myself to the situation more than I already am, and I look away for a moment, watching the tiny flicker of the candle flame.

When I don’t say anything, though, Pastor Thomas continued to speak. “I didn’t always have this calling, you know. When I was a teenager, I hated going to church. Mostly after my sister died. I loved her almost more than anything and didn’t know how to cope with losing her.” It strikes a chord with me, for a moment, my own plethora of sisters and the loss of my son… my vision blurred for a moment with tears, blinking quickly to try and keep them away. Opening up once had been hard enough and I don’t know if I have the strength to manage it again.

“He mentioned that you lost your son.”

I freeze at the direct breach for a moment, and the tense silence that followed says everything that I was incapable of. How broken I still was, years later. I’d thought that running away had helped, but it’d been a band-aid. Harriet was a miracle, I’d always called her my God-given one, but she didn’t fill the hole. She grew my heart, made it warmer and more full of life, but there was still the missing piece that laid with Samuel. All I could do was manage a nod.

“Would you like to know how I came back to the church after?” He asked me softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. I glance at it for a moment, sucking in a breath and giving another nod.

I listen with such intensity that there’s nearly a twitch in my hand, an urge to write it down and memorize it, commit it to memory. Unlike Pastor John, Pastor Thomas doesn’t recite Bible verses to me, doesn’t give me references that I could have pieced together on my own if I’d sat down and tried to do so. Instead, his anecdotes speak to me. It’s not something prepackaged for anyone who had been through pain, not a book directed to the world with the intent to listen and follow. Instead, it’s personal, designed directly for me and what I had been through. There’s no rehearsal, just honesty spilling from his heart. As I cling to every word that he had to say, this time, there are no tears welling up in my eyes. Instead, there’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach that quickly became all-consuming.

It’s hope.

“Thank you.” The two words don’t have a chance at covering everything that I’m experiencing, the relief that comes with hearing his testimony of faith. I had wrestled with God for the past weeks, perhaps years since Samuel had died. I used to think that people of true faith accepted everything quietly and calmly, but now I can begin to understand that’s not the case. It’s more than an act of imitation. I poured into the books of the Bible that dealt with people who were suffering — Job, Psalms, Ecclesiastes. There was some reassurance to be found in that that some of God’s favorite people were angry and confused by Him. But it’s a single line of Pastor Thomas’ words that truly resonate with me. 

“God can take it, so tell Him what you're feeling.” That’s the last thing that he told me before standing up and leaving me in the church with the lone candle, flickering in the same way that my faith was. Unsteady. Weak. But still burning, still present. Even with everything that I had felt, never for a moment had I thought that God wasn’t actually there.

God is good. But the world was not. That was something that I needed to learn to come to terms with it in some kind of better way. I’d known it for a long time, but now that the experience was becoming too much, I needed to reteach myself. Reevaluate. God had lost a son, too. But he had made the choice with Jesus, that had been his decision to make. It was hard to imagine that He loves us so much that he would allow his son to die – on purpose. I don’t think I could have ever had the strength to do something like that. No, I know that I couldn’t.

I wanted Samuel with me. There was no doubt, no question. But there’s something to be said about the idea of him being safe and loved with another, even if it wasn’t with me. I didn’t die inside, not in the same way, when Harriet was with Jackson. Surely there was some kind of parallel to be found there.

And I’ll never be happy that he’s gone. But I want to be with him one day. I want all of this pain to be temporary, I want to be reunited with him. I need it. I need that light on the other side of the tunnel to still be there. That hole and that ache would never fully disappear inside me. And it never would for Jackson, too. I knew that. But God does know how we feel. He lost His son too. I had to hold on. I had to make that decision, no matter what my heart was saying. I had to find Samuel again one day. I had to. There wasn’t another option.

Too engrossed in my thoughts, I don’t realize that I’m crying until the tears had slipped far enough down to my cheek and falling onto my chest. With the recognition only comes more tears, leaning forward as they consume me. It’s nearly impossible to breathe but I can’t hold it back, I can’t stop it anymore. It’s the first time that I’ve sat in a place of God, of any kind, in weeks. And for just a brief moment, I feel His embrace finally engulfing itself around me, holding me through my tears. I’m not alone. I just had to open myself back up to Him, welcome Him in. He was there. He was still there. I had to be the one to let him back in. He couldn’t force it. It had to come from me and no one else. Not my parent’s teachings, not what I’d been expecting to accept. I had to be the one to initiate the relationship.

“April?”

Hearing the sound of my name makes me jump instantly, jerking my head to look over my shoulder and see Jackson standing there. It’s obvious what had been going on, and if the sounds of my sobbing hadn’t made it clear enough, then the red eyes and wetness glistening on my cheeks would make the crying clear enough. I can’t bring myself to say a word.

“I… I thought after what we talked about last night, that you might be in here.” He explained as he approached, seating himself in the empty space where Pastor Thomas had been earlier. Without saying anything further, his arm wrapped around me and pulled me in.

I don’t refuse the contact this time, instead, I lean in further and let a few more tears fall. I’m calmer now, the interruption had been a little more grounding than what I’d anticipated. But I know that as much of an atheist as he was, this wasn’t a moment that Jackson was going to use my religion against me or treat it like it was something lesser. Not after last night, not with everything that had been going on between the two of us. I take my time letting out the last of my tears and calming myself down, letting him soothe me. Even if I could feel God in the room, the physical contact is something that can’t be compared.

“You don’t need to ask me what’s wrong,” I sniffled before he could get to the question. “And I don’t mean it in the burying it down this way. I… I am feeling okay, actually. For the first time in a long time.” I don’t have to lie about it, either. Maybe things weren’t perfect, but they were getting better. Actually better. “Are you going to hate me if I talk about the Bible?” I preface.

“Not at all,” Jackson shook his head, tucking hair behind my ear. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve been going through the story of Job a lot. He was this good, upstanding man. And God decided to make a bet with Satan. Satan thought he was only good because he’d had this easy life, and that if he had it rough, he’d turn his back on God. God took the bed. In the course of one day, Job received four messages, each with the separate news that his livestock, servants, and 10 children had all died. He continued to be a faithful servant. He still prayed to God. He persevered. Job's faith was tested and he passed the test. And for his faith, God rewarded Job with twice what he had before.” I gave a detailed summary, pausing for a moment. But I keep going before he can say much.

“I guess I’ve been focused a lot on… the pain. The suffering, the unfairness, the inequity. You see, Job got what he had before. But… replacement children. PTSD. Was it worth it to have been a faithful servant? Or would it have been better to just curse God's name from the beginning? Where was God throughout all of Job's suffering and pain? I’ve just been obsessed with this lately. That He’s up there, and He couldn’t give less of a damn.”

Jackson stays quiet as I spill out everything weighing on my chest. I don’t mind the fact that he doesn’t have much to say, partially because it’s a little better than some of the negative comments that he had made in the past about my religious beliefs. He had learned since then. And so had I.

“But God lost a son too. He knows the pain. And He’s… He’s taking care of Samuel for us, for a while. Maybe it doesn’t feel as good as having him with us, but I don’t think I can live without faith. I don’t know how to. It just seems hopeless. Pointless.”

It’s not an insult to his lack of belief and we’re both mature enough to know it. It’s a good thing, too. A few years ago a conversation like this would have sent cracks into the foundation of our relationship.

He shuffled closer to me and kissed the top of my head gently, and my eyes fall shut for a moment. We haven’t been close like this in a long time. Our closest encounters are handing Harriet back and forth to each other, or when we get bumped up against each other in the middle of treating a patient. But there’s an intimacy here in the moment, with just the two of us. No matter what else in the world was happening, this felt good.

“I’m glad that you’re finding yourself again, April.” He murmured. “It’s nice to see and hear you talking like your old self again. I’ve been worried about you.” Nothing he had to say surprised me. I’d earned the worry, no matter how I’d been rejecting him because of it.

“I’m not who I used to be,” I admit with a small shrug, straightening up so that I could look at him properly. “But I think that I’m becoming someone better. Someone stronger.” I give him a small smile. “And yeah, maybe someone with a little less binge drinking, too.” That earned a slight chuckle out of him, even if it’s really not something that either of us should have been joking about.

“Good,” he breathed out.

There’s a pause between us, but there’s no awkwardness. I can see in his eyes that he’s thinking about the exact same thing that I am: Samuel. We’d both had so much hope, so much love for our little boy. We’d both pictured our lives with him, all of the things that we would never have. Even if we had Harriet now, our lives were different. We weren’t the same people that we had been, we both had different and new scars. Even after years, though, the sadness that lingered was inevitable. Another difference had been our ways of coping, but it’s a sore topic. It always will be. I’d made my mistakes, we both had. That was all in the past now.

“Thank you for listening,” I gave him a small smile.

“Of course.” Jackson took my hand for a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I told you, I’m going to be here for you – whatever you need. I wasn’t bluffing.” He reminded me gently.

The way that he was staring at me for such a long moment, with such little distance between the two of us… it stirs old feelings up inside of me that I can’t deny and I can’t try to bury. Not everything was in the past, no matter how I tried to pretend it was. There was always going to be something between the two of us. Too much history was still there, it couldn’t be erased. And we’d been friends before everything else. Here he was again, being my friend, even if he couldn’t fully understand the revelation that I was finally bringing myself through. But despite that primal stir deep inside of me, I sniffle once more and stand up slowly.

“I uh, I should get going.” I break the intimacy of the moment with another brief smile flashing across my lips.

“Why don’t I take you home?” Jackson suggested as he stood up, stepping out from the pews.

“Uh, okay,” I nodded. “Picking up Harriet from daycare, right?” That was something that I certainly needed, holding my little girl in my arms, even if it was just taking her out to his car and babbling to her throughout the car ride.

“Yeah, let’s go get our little girl.” A real smile is offered up and I soak it in for everything that it’s worth, returning it without thinking. He offered his hand, and I take it.


	7. Chapter 7

_JACKSON_

I'd been ready to panic and assist when I'd walked in on April sobbing in the middle of a chapel. It'd been an impulse to try and find her there – Hunt hadn't seen her, she wasn't checking on any patients that I was aware of. Maybe this time last week I wouldn't have looked there for her, but after the conversation that we had last night, it made sense.

Job's a story that I don't know a lot about, but the gist is easy enough to get with what she offered. God's almighty, but crap still happens. If she wanted to believe that, it was her right.

But some of what she had said was bugging me. It's not about the religion. Replacement children? PTSD? Maybe the latter could lead to her feeling the former, but the idea of her referring to Harriet that way didn't settle with me right. Harriet would never replace Samuel. She was something new, original. An entirely separate entity from her late brother. A creation between the two of us, but no replacement. But just because she wasn't, doesn't mean that I loved either of them any less. Both of them were my children and always would be, no matter the separation between life and death.

I won't poke holes in what she'd said yet, though. She needed the moment, and I can at least give that much to her. Taking her hand to walk down to daycare is already pushing it, as far as I can tell, but she doesn't protest or make a comment about it either.

April gets Harriet from daycare, laughing and cooing as she makes contact with our little girl, and I let her and smile. The two of us had gotten quite good about passing her back and forth, keeping things fair for the both of us. The one thing that we'd managed to keep to not matter what was that we didn't fight, not when it came to our daughter.

"Let's go," I carry the baby bag for her, letting her focus completely on Harriet. Little syllables and words had begun to tumble from her lips in the past week, it'd become clear that she knows who her mom and dad were, that it was more than just babbling syllables. She'd began to understand simpler words like yes and no, hello and bye-bye. And she had started to imitate April's way of saying nighty-night, even if it just came out as a short and sweet ni-ni. She was learning all of it quickly, even for her age.

We make it out to my car without much hesitation and I cover the both of them with an umbrella, making sure that she can get Harriet in the car without being too drenched.

"Can I ask a favor from you?" April questioned me once I'm behind the wheel and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Sure thing," I answered without hesitation, nodding.

"Can I spend the night with you two? It's just… been an emotional day and you can say no because it's your night with Harriet and i shouldn't ask to intrude on that. I'm just not sure if I'm up for being alone tonight." She blabbered on quickly, adding an explanation for her words when they don't really need much of one.

I don't hesitate to answer once it was clear that she was done. "Of course," I gave a brief glance over at her before returning my eyes to the road. "It's no big deal. I don't think you've really gotten to see my new place, anyways. I don't know if there are enough throw pillows for your taste, though," I teased her gently.

"I guess I'll have to get over it," she replied with a shake of her head.

It's not a long drive from the hospital to my new house. Traffic wasn't particularly bad at this time of day and I mostly took back roads to avoid the majority of it. Normally I didn't mind many risks, but I'd been a lot safer with Harriet in the car with me. It was funny, how having a kid could change even the tiniest things. There's baby-proofing the house, sure, I'd gone through every checklist to make sure that it was as safe as possible. But that had been obvious, predictable. The little, random things hadn't.

What was equally unpredictable was what was going to happen tonight between the two of us. We hadn't had an evening together with just the two of us since… well, since she had moved out all of those months ago. Hopefully, we'd be able to figure out a way to just talk with the two of us. As long as Harriet was up, it'd be fine. After? Not as guaranteed.

By the time that we get inside and settled down, April's down with Harriet in her playpen and helped her with the Laugh 'N Learn Learning Kitchen. It had music and shapes to sort, but she mostly just preferred to play with the different lights that were on the toy.

"I've uh, got some leftover rotisserie chicken in the fridge, I can reheat it. And I've got asparagus." I'm trying to appeal to her stomach a little more than my own at the moment, but it's not like eating a genuinely healthy meal was going to kill me. I ate out more than I should have, usually went for pre-prepared meals at Whole Foods to save myself the time and effort. Cooking had never been something that I was particularly enthusiastic about, and it was much easier to cook for two people than it was one.

"That sounds good to me. How about I give little miss a bath? How about that, ladybug?" She cooed, already beginning to scoop her up from the floor.

"Good idea," I nodded. "I'll get started on here. Her little tub is already in the bathroom, just make sure you don't forget the duckie." I'm sure that her own nighttime routine with Harriet is similar enough to my own, but there are some things that we haven't done together in a long time. That was just another one of them.

"It's like that little nickname is going to be haunting me for the rest of the night." She chuckled as she made her way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

I smile but leave the words be, focusing on getting dinner ready. I'm careful with reheating the chicken, not wanting it to dry out because that was a mistake I'd made before. And maybe, I want to impress her a little bit. Make sure that she doesn't think I've become completely incapable while living on my own. Even if that was just something that had been there since, well, the beginning. Probably wouldn't take her much to see right through all of this.

It's easy to hear my two girls laughing and giggling together down the hallway. The temptation there is to go and see, the join them, to be a family. But I focus on dinner for a moment, getting the asparagus in the skillet with olive oil and pepper, turning it as it cooked.

But it doesn't take long before all of it's cooked and ready to go. I don't want to interrupt her time with Harriet, taking it off the heat and covering it so it hopefully wouldn't lose too much of it before she finished up. I grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, pausing a moment. I don't want to encourage alcohol with her these days – I'm not sure where her limits stood and it's better to not experiment with it on a day that had seemed like it was taxing on her. Instead, ice and water fill the plastic. Might as well keep up with the idea of a healthy dinner.

A few more minutes pass and I can't hear the two of them as clearly as I could before. With a glance over at the clock on the oven, I make up my mind and begin heading down the hallway. The nursery door was shut. But from the other side, I can hear her voice gently.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.

Even though April didn't make it very well known, she had a beautiful singing voice. I didn't get to hear it very frequently at any point – not during our friendship or marriage. Occasionally I'd catch her singing along to the radio or in the shower, but she always got shy about it. The only person that she'd ever been instantly comfortable singing in front of was our daughter. I loved that about her.

Slowly, I grip the doorknob and turn it, not wanting to make any noise or draw attention to myself. She knew the entire Johnny Cash song, not just the little phrase that everyone had heard sung or hum at some point in their life. I stand there and listen to her finish before clearing my throat, offering a smile when she turned around.

"Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt," I apologized.

"It's okay, she just settled down, I think," she replied, ruffling her hair as she turned back toward our daughter. With her comment, I step up to join her beside Harriet's crib. She was quiet, peaceful. My hand naturally gravitated toward the small of April's back as I stood next to her.

I can feel the deep rise and fall as she took a deep breath, but she doesn't tense or pull away from me. Instead, she shuffled closer, her head moving to rest on my shoulder. This was the kind of cliche parenting moments that people talked about – the kind that we had both missed out on with our separation. Maybe at the time, it had been the best thing for the both of us to move forward. But standing here, all that I want to do is have more of these moments with her, with Harriet. I want to be a family with her. A real family, not something bound by blood or obligation. I'd always wanted something real and meaningful with her.

"She looks just like you, you know," April spoke softly, her head turning toward me. With the slight shuffle, I angle myself toward her and look down at her, but my hand doesn't move from her back. "Good thing she doesn't snore like you, though. The crying is more than enough."

There's an instant roll of my eyes. "You snore just as much as I do, you know. Deny it all day long. Maybe I should get a little audio recording of you tonight," I retort back with her easy. Playful banter had never been an issue between the two of us. And yeah, we're both guilty of snoring like a bear. That was one of those things that you never thought you could actually miss until it was too late.

She elbowed me in the ribs almost immediately after my words. Yeah, I'd earned that.

But when she turned to face me, there's something different in her eyes. Nothing like the way that she had been looking at me in the last couple of weeks. A familiar spark, just a little feisty. There she was again, standing right in front of me, so close that her breasts nearly brushed against my chest: the woman that I loved, clear as a bell.

My hand was still pressed into her back, but this time I pull her in closer to me. April knew that she could have escaped if she wanted to, and she didn't. I don't hesitate. Leaning down to her, my lips sealed over hers in a firm kiss, breathing her in. I can barely taste coffee and chapstick, melting down into her. Her hands come up to cup my face and she anchored herself into me further, tightening my grip on her and pulling her pull against my chest. The arch of her back tilted her head just enough that I can feel the length of her hair brushing against my hands. The need is there, desire pumping furiously through my veins as my mouth opened and allowed our tongues to meet once again. She was fine with it, encouraging it. And we both needed it.

She moaned softly when I pulled back and went for her neck with just as much enthusiasm. It was cute. I'd always loved the little sounds that I'd been able to pull out of her here and there, and I knew that her neck had always been a soft spot for her.

"We should… somewhere else," April squeaked out.

I pause and nearly laugh. Yeah, our daughter's nursery probably wasn't the best place to go at it. Instead, I hum in agreement, knees giving a slight bend so I can grip the swell of her ass, giving the supple flesh a gentle squeeze before I pick her up. Her legs wrap around my waist instinctively, a practiced motion, even with the time that had passed since we'd last been intimate. Nearly a year, yet I still know her like nothing else.

"I've got you."

Something that people say to someone hanging over a ledge, about to fall. April was falling for sure. But so was I, all over again.

My bedroom was a few quick strides down the hallway, door shut behind us quickly. Her hands were all over me, manicured nails digging and scratching, making her desire known. I pulled her shirt over her head and she quickly did the same for me, lowering the both of us onto my bed slowly and gently. Her bra is gone quickly, giving myself all the room that I needed to work, to apologize and appreciate her in ways that I should have done a long time ago.

Mouth met a rosy nipple, licking and sucking to draw it to a point. I pinched her neglected nipple, causing her to gasp and squeeze her eyes shut. She was noisy, always had been. I sucked a wet trail between her breasts and down her stomach, stopping just above the scar from where our daughter had been brought into the world. I'd rarely gotten to see it, but I knew that she was insecure about it from the way that she shied away. But it's a symbol of her strength, the things that she had overcome, her resolution when facing the impossible. It made me love her all the more. A soft trail of kisses is left on the pink skin, gentler than anything else. She gave a soft sigh, fingers carding over my shaved hair.

"Keep going." I take her words at face value, not hesitating to pull her pants down the length of he legs. The damp spot on her panties was a clear invitation, momentarily ignored in favor of peppering the inside of her thighs with kisses. Each freckle is given its proper attention. The care I took made her feel wanted and warmed her to the core, in both senses of the term. She'd expressed it to me once before when we were married. My nose brushed across the lace covering her and she shivered in anticipation.

It's enough teasing for what we both want. Cold air washed over her pussy as I quickly pulled them off and she gasped. Gripping her ass again and encouraging her to wrap her legs around me, his tongue worshipped along the entire length of her pussy, licking her from slit to clit, before wrapping my lips around her clit and flicking the tip lightly. Her heels dug into my bare back as I worked the bundle of nerves. She spread her legs farther at the same time, inviting me to go deeper, harder. She wanted more, and I was here to give her exactly that. One finger pushed inside of her, curling and listening to the beautiful sounds of her mewling desperately above me. After a few moments, a second joined inside of her tight walls.

April was dripping and it was easy to work her up like this. I knew exactly what to do, how to move to make her come undone. She cried out loudly, hoarse and writhing back against me for everything that she could get. And I gave and gave. Until she finally cried out with such desperation that she came, squeezing my fingers tightly and bucking like this.

"Holy shit," she swore loudly.

The thing was, it'd always been like this. Edgy. Desperate.

Honest.

It was almost as if the two of us were destined to fall right back into this pattern. But this time, I wasn't going to let it get screwed up for the two of us. I would do better – for her, for our daughter. For all of us.

"I know," I breathed out quietly, giving her thighs a few more kisses, then the scar, working my way back up until I can find her mouth again. My cock was hard and aching for attention and she could feel it pressing into her. I'd hardly realized her hand had moved until it wrapped around me over my clothes, giving it a playful squeeze. It doesn't take long for the both of us to get the rest of my clothes out of the way, relieved as I was freed from the confines.

Hips shifted forward and I pressed my cock against her mound, teasing myself just as much as I was her. I could feel her outer lips, wet from my mouth and her own juices. I rubbed my cock against her, relishing the way she moaned as the head pulled against her opening and pushed onto her clit. She was already so slick, ready and waiting for me to push into her. Her wetness coated my entire length as I rubbed against her and dripped everywhere. I couldn't take the teasing any longer than she could, though, I needed this just as much as she did.

"Are you ready?" I stroked my cock gently, needing to hear her say it.

"Please, I want you." The words are music to my ears. Cognizant of the fact that it'd been awhile for us, I push inside of her slowly, her walls accommodating me almost immediately. She's tight, hot silk squeezing around my length, the best I've ever had even after all this time. There are the cliches about sex being better with feelings involved, and they're right. Every single one of them.

I take a deep breath, hips rocking out almost all the way before moving right back inside of her. I started to move faster, finding the pace that I knew worked for both of us. It's not long before her hips were moving right back against me, and my thumb slid down between us, finding her clit to rub gentle circles against her. Neither of us was going to last long. I hadn't been with a woman in a long time, months, and that had been nothing compared to her. No one had ever been able to compare to her – and it was so much more than just the sex in that regard. But hell, the sex with her had always been mind-blowing.

The slippery friction was beginning to become too much and my fingers moved against her clit a little faster, a little harder. "C'mon, April," I moaned against her lips, encouraging her. "Just like that, cum for me."

April's body made a trembling arch, shuddered and spasmed and she screamed out her orgasm, raw and primal. She ran out of breath, gasped helplessly, shaking and writhing, her mind blank. I hold up the best that I can against his, fucking into her harder and faster, but only getting a few more strokes in before it's too much for me to handle. I pushed our hips flush against each other as I came, spilling inside of her.

We stay just like that for a few long moments, hovering my weight on top of her as I softened inside of her, panting to try and catch our breath once more. I don't have words, but instead, she filled the silent gap, kissing me gently. It's only after that I move, rolling off of her and letting out a breath. My hand rested on top of her stomach, both of our sweat already mixed together.

"It's not casual, April," I murmured to her gently, kissing her shoulder. "It never has been with you."

Her head turned toward me, much smaller hand resting on top of mine. "I guess it has never been."

Laying there is easy, defamiliarizing ourselves with each other on a more physical level. We've made the mistake before – sex before working everything out. Maybe we hadn't talked about everything yet, but at least individually… I was in a better place now than I had been. I was clear about how I felt. And she seemed like she had gotten herself into a better place, past the binge drinking and the partying. We'd worked on ourselves as individuals. We weren't the same people that we had been when we were married, or in Montana. We'd grown.

"I don't want to be just your co-parent, April," I started slowly, my gaze focused in on hers so that she knew I was serious. "I've never wanted to be just that. I want to be your person. I want to be your best friend, I want to be here for you in every sense of the word. This isn't just some post-sex ex talk, either. You don't have to go for it or trust me immediately, but… I need to tell you how I feel. I need you to know that I still love you, after everything that we've been through and everything that we've down to each other. Even in the moments that I've hated you, I love you. That's never going to stop. I've tried. And it's never going to end, not as long as I'm alive." I'm exposing everything inside of me, letting it all come out. There was some kind of vulnerability in sex itself, but this was an entirely different one. Maybe I needed to be vulnerable with her. It was something that I'd never really tried, I'd always put up the fortitude, let my masculinity get in the way of it. But she deserved better than that. We both did.

"I still love you, April."


	8. Chapter 8

_**APRIL** _

Even with the weeks that had taken place of confusing and supposedly casual sex, it’s too easy to fall back into bed with him, fall back into the same habit that had bitten the both of us in the rear. No matter what was done to put the world between us, we always ended up in the same position. In a bed.

In love.

There was something both freeing and terrifying about hearing the words leave his lips. I’d always gone back and forth on the matter, whether or not he really loved me or maybe he just loved the idea of me, the idea of what we had before things between us had completely fallen apart. I still love you, April. The words play through my head over and over again, trying to pick apart everything that he had said. But I can’t find the hole, the flaw. Not yet, not now. 

Serendipity overwhelmed me and I lay there quietly for a moment, but it’s not tense or awkward. Instead, there’s a real smile on my face, one that hasn’t been there in a long time. I reached for his hand, interlocking our fingers together firmly.

“You’re always going to be my best friend too, Jackson,” I murmured affectionately and pull our connected hands up to my mouth for a moment, kissing each of his individual knuckles slowly and holding him against my chest. “That’s never going to change. Maybe we fight sometimes. But every pair of friends fight. And they get over it. They forgive. They keep going.” I let out the breath that I was holding onto, smiling at the ceiling for a moment before turning my head so that I could look at him directly.

“And I still love you too,” I added for clarification.

But even knowing that, it didn’t completely erase the complicated circumstances that defined the both of us and everything that we had been through. We hadn’t dealt with Samuel in a healthy way. We hadn’t dealt with the divorce in much better of one, really. I’d been bitter for a long time that he hadn’t given a real effort toward the marriage counseling that I’d gotten him to go to. But he had opted out in the same way that I can, treated me the way that I saw him. Maybe it wasn’t entirely fair or the right way of handling it, but… it gave some perspective on the situation, at least. It made it easier to move forward and not repeat the mistakes that we had already made.

I wanted that. That was one thing that I didn’t have to question. I wanted a better life for the both of us, something good and stable for Harriet. Having her go back and forth, days without my baby girl… it was painful. Difficult. That wouldn’t get any easier as the three of us got older, as she became more aware of the situation. Maybe she wouldn’t remember this, but one day, she’d know. I don’t want her to.

“I want to be a family again, Jackson. Just the three of us.” I whispered quietly.

“We are a family,” he confirmed. “And maybe… we can learn to be something more for each other, again. Like the way that we used to be.”

“Not the way that we used to be,” I disagreed quickly with a shake of my head. “Better than we used to be. We were good and we were happy but we were far from the perfect couple, Jackson. I want to make it work. Even if we’re going to fight in the future, I want… the resolve. I want to be able to work things out and become better than ever. No infatuation. Real love.”

Every couple went through hard times. Maybe to the point that they questioned if they should still be together. We obviously had, and it hadn’t worked out in our favor in the first round of things. That’s just part of being in a long-term relationship. Then, the question becomes: how do they talk about it? 

Fate had come around in our favor, in the dost quirky of ways with bringing Harriet into our lives. A blessing, but also insurance that we would always play a part with each other, in one way or another. There’d be no avoidance or getting out it. Not that I wanted that. And I didn’t think he did, either.

Some couples talk about it almost like a sign from the gods that they shouldn’t be together. Some couples find a way to glorify it. To talk about how it brought them together. How they made it through and how they’re stronger because of what happened. I wanted the two of us to be able to fall into the latter. I knew that we’d never get to the point where we didn’t fight – hell, I was okay with that. Maybe it’d be stupid things like television shows or what school was best for our baby girl. Surmounting to that point instead of where we were now seemed like a major victory.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good point there,” Jackson commented and gave another gentle squeeze of my hand. 

“I know that… I’ve been off lately and you’ve been worried about me. But I am getting better, Jackson, I promise. All I want is to be a good mom to Harriet and maybe I needed to struggle a little bit to do that.” I explained, chewing on my bottom lip just a little.

“You’re a great mom, April. I grew up with an incredible woman as a mother, even if she drives me crazy sometimes. And Harriet’s going to get that same privilege.” His words bring tears to my eyes and I blink a few times to try and suppress them. It reminded me of what I had said to him when we’d been in Montana and he’d had to deal with all of the doubt that came along with dealing with his father for the first time since he was a child. Similarities there, it feels good to hear, to know that it’s what he thinks. Even if I had my fair share of issues surfacing lately, that was one thing that he hadn’t doubted.

“Thank you, Jackson,” I tell him sincerely. Motherhood was something that I cherished deeply. Losing Samuel… maybe it was something that neither of us had really greed properly. Or we had, but not together. I didn’t know if was too late to try and do it over again, or if it was better left in the past somehow. Taking a deep breath, I release my current thoughts with a sigh. “I probably need to take a shower now,” I added lightheartedly.

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, I guess I probably need to be reheating dinner,” he added. I’d pretty much forgotten that he was cooking in the first place – admittedly, before the sex, I’d been too preoccupied and focused on Harriet to even recognize the rumbling in my stomach. It wasn’t the first time that had happened.

We both get up so we don’t waste the remainder of the evening, and I hopped in the shower quickly. I don’t wash my hair, that could be saved for the morning, just rinsing off the sweat and mixture of other fluids from my frame and getting today’s makeup off my face. It doesn’t take long and once I’m out of the shower, I realize that I don’t actually have anything to wear over her. Between the moving out and both of us finding our own houses, we’d become way more independent, tried to cling less to the past.

I make do with what I can, pulling on a faded tee shirt from his drawer and a pair of his basketball shorts that have a drawstring around the waist. Tightening it was the only way they’d actually stay on me.

Jackson was already busy at work in the kitchen attempting to salvage what he’d put on. But the face that he was making as he pushed around the food was indicative enough that it looked like it wasn’t going well – when I realize what had been left out, I chuckle and shake my head.

“So who’s going to take the blame for this? Me or you?” I offered lightheartedly.

He looked over at me as I spoke, assessing what I’d thrown on and letting out a slight laugh. “I guess I’ll take the fall this time,” he said as he stepped over toward me. He pulled at his shirt for a moment, far too big for me and ballooning out from my frame easily with the slightest tug. “You could have gone without the shorts, you know,” he teased.

“You’re enough of a sex fiend without the temptation,” I retorted with an innocent shrug of the shoulders. “And I’m hungry. For actual food. C’mon, I’m sure that we can find something in your kitchen worth salvaging.”

“You did always like a challenge,” Jackson replied.

I rolled my eyes but left his words at that, setting to sort through his pantry and cupboards to find something that was a little better than dried out chicken and soggy asparagus. It’s a little bit messy and a little less organized than what I’d maintained when it’d been the two of us married and living together, but it’s more stocked than what I would have guessed. But I’m not in a big mood for cooking, not when I’ve still got a hundred things swirling through my mind to be discussed. Even if it wasn’t all something that could be talked about in the heat of the moment, I didn’t want it to slip away. Not when we’d finally had the chance to reconnect and have a moment of genuine honesty, not just falling back into sex.

So we settle on taking it easy for the night and break out the bread and sandwich meat. There’s a bag of potato chips with enough left in it to share. It’s simple, easy. We’re both hungry enough that we scarf down the meal without too much time to chat between bites.

“Can we talk?” I question by the time that we’re in the kitchen side by side, both rinsing off our plates and sticking them in his dishwasher. It’s a half-second distraction, much nicer than my own.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He asked innocently.

“I want to just get everything out in the open to finally work it out. Without getting angry with each other, without throwing blame left and right. No walking away, no giving up.” I take a deep breath and force a smile on my lips so the delivery isn’t quite as heavy as it made itself out to bed in my bed. “I want to move forward, Jackson. Really move forward in a good, healthy way. I don’t know if we need to try therapy again or if we can get it out on our own, but.. this is what I want. For you, for me, for Harriet. I think it’s what all of us need.”

There’s a solemn moment after my speech, and I can’t tell if the tension is real or just a compilation of the nerves eating me alive. But when he speaks, I let out the breath that I was holding onto. “I think that you’re right.” Jackson agreed. “It’s going to be better for our family, the sooner that we can leave it in the past without it being… this ghost haunting us. We need to bury it.”

“Yeah,” I agree quickly. I get the metaphor he’s going for – leave it behind in a good way, not a skeleton in the closet. “Is there any place in particular that you want to start?” I ask, walking over to the couch so that we can both sit down, sitting on top of my knees.

Another pause passed, and I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “I think that we should talk about Samuel.” Jackson decided.

“Okay,” I gave a slight nod. This wouldn’t be an easy conversation for either of us. “I… I should apologize, for everything that happened. I know that I should have sooner. I know that now. I needed to grieve and I was focused on my grieving instead of our grieving.” I explained, eyes already beginning to turn glossy as I think back to our beautiful baby boy that we had to watch die. There was nothing that could properly acknowledge the pain and agony of such a bereavement. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry now and I’m sorry for then, that I couldn’t be there as your wife.”

“I wish that you had apologized sooner,” Jackson admitted. The words sting to hear but I know there’s nothing that I can say or do now to change it. “But… I accept your apology. And I’ve accepted what happened. If there was any time for us to be selfish, then that was it. We went through the hardest thing that any couple can go through. I don’t want to hold what you had to do to survive against you. But, that being said… I don’t want you to hold the divorce against me either, April.”

That’s a turn that I probably should have seen coming. If leaving after Samuel had been my mistake to take fault for, then giving up with the divorce had been his. We both had our faults, but that was an easy simplification, not entirely an inaccurate reflection of what had gone down.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I won’t hold it against you. I understand that we see divorce as two different things.” To her, it was the end of everything, him giving up. But to him… it had been the thing to keep him going, the thing that freed him. He grew up with a single parent, a divorced mom. She had grown up thinking that it was some huge wrong, a failure as a woman and as a wife. Their differences made sense when it got down to the arguments that they’d had over the subject time and time again. It had been more about freeing himself than causing her pain, even if that had been her initial accusation when Jackson had served her divorce papers. “And… I know that this might be silly to you, but I think that God didn’t intend that to be the end of us. It’s no coincidence that I took the pregnancy test on the same day that we signed the papers. I have to believe that means something for the both of us.”

I had to believe that He hadn’t intended it to be our end. That he had been holding out for one little strand of hope for the both of us, that we would be something more than an unfinished symphony, placed on the back-burner. He had given us this little miracle, a spark to reignite our flame again. An unexpected gift, just when we needed it most.

“That’s not the craziest thing you’ve said. Not even close.” Jackson reached for my hand as he spoke, giving my fingers a little squeeze. “I’d reckon you’re not too far off base, either. It’d be one hell of a coincidence.” He agreed.

“And I want to apologize, again, for not telling you that I was pregnant sooner. I thought that having a little bit of distance would help, just… I wanted to give us both a few days of peace before I dropped the truth on you. And I really, really did intend on telling you. I know that it sounds crazy and the timing was all kinds of messed up and… god, I was furious at Arizona for weeks following that. I wanted to tell you. You deserved better than finding out that way.” The next apology leaving my lips resembled a ramble more than anything else, but I don’t try to retract anything that does fall from my lips. It was the truth and it was exactly what he deserved to hear, nothing less than that.

“It’s okay,” he gave me a small smile with the words. “I’m just glad that we have her here now. What you did, giving birth to her like that… It scared the crap out of me, April. I can’t lose you. Especially not like that. I would have never recovered.” Jackson was fighting with his composure for a moment and I can see it clearly in his eyes, the clench of his jaw attempting to rectify the emotion to be found in green hues.

“Do you remember when the bus exploded and we all thought you were in it? How I went crazy on you?” I turned the question back around on him, waiting until he nodded to continue. “I know how you feel. And… I don’t have a death wish. I want to raise our little girl more than anything else in the world, and I want to raise her with you. I… I would like to vote for no more near-death experiences for the both of us.”

Maybe it’s a little silly, but it still managed to produce a smile on the both of our faces.

“That sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” Jackson chuckled in agreement.

It’s too tempting to sit there and just talk, and I shift forward for a moment, pressing my lips against his in a sweet kiss. It’s not heated in the same way that things had been earlier, that desire somewhat quenched for the moment, but instead, the intimacy that I want from him is the sweet kind, the pure. The kind that came from real lovers. I linger there for a moment, forehead pressed against his.

“I don’t want our daughter to grow up without a family, April. Because we could be a real family. I want this. I want you.”

No matter how many times I had heard the words leave his lips, they still send butterflies to my stomach and it’s a magical feeling. No one had ever been able to make me feel the way that he did. Even if we had hurt each other in the past in nasty ways, no one was ever going to love me the way that he did. And I was never going to love anyone in the same way. He was my soulmate, I was sure of that, no matter the bumps and the hitches on the long road that we had been on for nearly a decade now. Things had been dark lately, but maybe it really was darkest before the dawn. It took a single touch to fall in love with him again, but we both knew by now that it would take more work than that to have something that lasted.

“I’d like that a lot,” I agreed with a soft smile. “You’re always going to be it for me.”

“Me and you, huh?” I know exactly what he’s referencing in a moment, and it nearly made me laugh. I’d never forgotten that first night together, that hotel in San Francisco, how wild all of it had been. No matter how crazy it was, it was always going to make me smile.

“Yeah, me and you.”

We curl up around each other in bed that night like there weren’t months of distance and time between the two of us, his nose pressed right up against the back of my neck. It’s so easy to fall back into old habits like that with him. And the fact that Harriet didn’t wake us up at any point in the night… it feels like a sign, like things are meant to be this way. Maybe it’s foolish to take it without a grain of salt, but I needed something good. I needed something to work. I was just starting to find myself again after the lapse of faith, and to have this come back to me? It was starting to seem like I could take Job’s story as a little more than just a metaphor this time. I couldn’t think of anything more rewarding than to fix and regain perhaps what had been the second most traumatic loss that I’d experience in the past few years.

I’m awake before he is in the morning to no one’s surprise, and I get Harriet up and dressed, in a fresh diaper and fed. Whole milk was easy to find, and I’m pleased to see he has oatmeal. Our morning routine is exceptionally easy and I don’t know if it’s because we’d just always been good co-parents or if it last night’s conversation had really opened a new door for the both of us.

A very necessary pitstop is made by my house, though. It’s not like I’m about to show up to work in a mismatch of his clothes. I do my best to be quick, not wanting to keep him or Harriet waiting for too long. A messy bun would have to be enough for today. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be enough to get any more concerned looks from Owen or Arizona, but they’re on the back of my mind. We almost make it to the hospital before I bring up one slightly more pressing thing that we haven’t talked about.

“I think… that if we’re going to be working out things, maybe we should just keep it between the two of us for a little while.” I suggested, glancing over at him behind the wheel.

“Yeah?” Jackson questioned, eyes straying from the road for just a moment before turning. “Why’s that?”

“A little less pressure on the both of us, I think.” I paused a moment before elaborating. “I just don’t want everyone up in our business, telling us what we should or shouldn’t do. No that I don’t value their opinions, but I want to get this figured out just between the two of us. Right now, I think that the only other person that should be influencing our decisions is Harriet.”

In recognition of her name, our baby girl in the backseat blabbered out a few syllables, feet kicking at her car seat. She’s never been quiet in the car, that was one thing that hadn’t seemed to change much in the past year. I don’t mind in the slightest, though. I love the noisy company.

“That’s not a bad idea,” he agreed after a moment of thought. “So does that mean no on-call room rendezvous?” Jackson teased after a moment.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” I rolled my eyes even though I couldn’t help but laugh. “But you know, if this is a new start for us… I don’t want it to to be just about the sex. I want it to be about us. About building each other up and finding the right way to go forward with who we both are now, and who we both want to be for each other and for our daughter.” I offered a little clarity, gaze returning to his features. “Not that I’m saying no to sex. I mean, maybe I’ll say no to it at work. For a little while. But I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” Jackson reached over for my hand once more as I spoke. It’s something that we’d never done enough of, as far as I was concerned, even if we were always physically attached to each other in some form or another. I could never get enough of him, and I know that ran both ways. But I wouldn’t change it. “And I’m serious, it’s not a bad idea. We’ll relax, focus on us together and us as a family. I’m happy to do that with you, April.”

My heart swells at the words and I have to glance out the window for a moment to hide the fresh set of tears that had formed in my eyes, but this time they’re coming from a place that’s completely joyful, overwhelmed with the absolute feeling of euphoria that something so simple could bring to me. This was breathing in a new sense of life into me, rejuvenation nearly overwhelming after such a long time of feeling lost and hopeless. I wanted things to fall into place so desperately that having it actually seem to happen was nearly too much for me to be able to handle.

“Thank you, Jackson.”

“Anything for you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**_ JACKSON _ **

There was something authentically natural about falling back into old habits with April again, something that could never be replicated.

Even if years ago I’d believed that there was no such thing as a soulmate, that some kind of one and done thing was systemically faulty, I’d changed. If there was anyone capable of changing me for that, it was April. I’d loved Lexie, and even Stephanie, and there had been girls before Seattle… but none of them could even begin to cast a shadow on what the two of us had together.

Things may have just started between us on the basis of sex, but before that, April had been my best friend. Alex was decent enough company and it had been fine with the three of us living together even if we occasionally ganged up on her. Cristina and Meredith were fine as well, but I’d never been connected with any of them. Not in the same way. It’d become deep-rooted after the shooting because she was the only one who understood. Reed and Charles had been our friends, Charles had been my closest up until then. The rest of them… they didn’t care much about the loss. But she got it. She’d been there, even if I hadn’t been able to offer the same support for her.

I wanted to do that now. I could see that she needed it and it seemed like she had to come to terms with it herself, but I wanted to be able to support her. To compensate for the work that she had done for me over the years, and I’d been to shallow or blind to really understand it.

Of course, the sex was great, too. No point in looking over that. It’d been crazy lately and we’d both sustained more than a few marks – mostly intentional, even if the round in the shower had left the both of us with some bruises and unexpected soreness. One of those things that were definitely a lot more graceful on film than it was in real life.

We were still living in our own houses, but sleepovers at whoever had Harriet for that particular evening had become more and more frequent. It was some vague semblance of distance, not wanting to dive right back into where things had been and risk making the same mistakes. But I was eager to be there with her, right by her side again. Pushing her the things weren’t completely worked out yet didn’t seem like a good idea, though. I’d settle on waiting, making sure the two of us were really comfortable with each other emotionally again before pressing that matter. But I’d been looking at the housing market already, perusing. Three bedrooms minimum, a yard and a porch that I knew she would love. A big kitchen with new appliances. The stuff I was looking at probably wasn’t in the price range that she liked, but I wanted to make sure that everything else inside of it would be of worth.

That and preschools for Harriet. We hadn’t gotten into the school discussion too much, initially deciding to put it off. It felt early when she was just shy of tow but that was usually what the best of schools required, early applications with a hefty price tag attached. I’d settled down to focus on it in the kitchen, figuring it was easier to brace than the house subject, while she got Harriet down for the night.

“Hey, whatcha working on? Research?” April asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I nodded, leaning back in my chair away from the kitchen table for a moment. “Preschools, actually, for Harriet. That’s something that we should probably talk about before I get in too deep, though. Sit, I’ll show you.”

April plopped down on the table next to me and I turned my laptop toward her so she could see. “Earlier is better for this kind of stuff, usually,” I tacked on as I let him skim.

“I know. I’ve looked into them too,” she responded with a shrug of her shoulders. “Do you remember when we first talked about schools? Back… before I’d told you that I was pregnant with Samuel? You made some comment about riding horses at boarding school.”

One of the many arguments of our marriage. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Do you still want to do that? Boarding school, I mean, when she’s older?”

“I…” I’m caught off guard by the question, admittedly. I’d been looking more at the immediate future as opposed to the long term. “Not really, no. That was just what I did so I thought it was best. But I don’t think I want that for her.” The days where she had been with April could be quite frustrating, not knowing what was going on even if I had to rely on the fact that she was in good hands. I couldn’t imagine that for legitimate months while she was at school. “I think that private school is the best option for her.”

“Okay,” April commented as she stewed on the thought for a minute. “You know that I’m not big on that. I went to public school and we’re still in the same place. What would you think about the idea of a Christian pre-school, and then private school? I’ve looked into them and I found one that I really like. Rose Hill. They do a lot of hands-on learning, lots of outdoor time, actual science experiments with the kids involved. It’s not just Bible study and prayer.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that she brought it up, but I am. Mostly with the lack of faith she’d had lately, I didn’t think that she would want something like that. But it meant that she was looking forward. That was something to hold onto, even if religion isn’t my favorite thing.

“I’ll agree to go check it out if that’s what you really want.” I agreed, looking at her. “But, if I don’t like it, I don’t want you to turn it around into a religious thing, okay? It’s not automatically going to be that if I’m not a fan.” I cautioned her, brows furrowing slightly.

“That–that’s fair.” April nodded in agreement. “I can schedule an appointment. One of the women in the Bible study group that I used to go to is actually one of the preschool teachers there. She’s a sweet woman. You’d like her a lot,” she smiled at me as she spoke. My mind had already drifted away, remembering that argument, among the other ones that we had gotten into. It makes a lot more sense now, she’d been insecure about everything after my mom had swooped in with the post-nup papers and criticism. 

“Maybe uh, we should talk about the religious thing though…” I braced carefully.

She turned toward me and I could already see the hints of a frown on her features. Yeah, that one was pretty much all of me. I still don’t like it, I still don’t believe in it, but even after everything that she had been through, it was important to her. I needed a better way to be respectful of it.

“What about it?” April questioned.

“Regardless of school, I… I’m never going to be onboard with Christianity. I’m not going to jump ship and try to appease you and pretend to believe in something that I don’t. But I know that this is important to you and that raising Harriet to believe in the same things is important to you. I respect that. And I want you to know that I’m fine with you raising her in this way, as long as it’s something that’s never forced on her. Take her to church, pray with her, teach her about your God. If she wants to believe, then I’ll support the both of you. I just want it to be her choice.”

I’m hoping that the words will settle with her right and not insult. It’s hard to tiptoe around. A breath is released before I continue speaking. “And I want to apologize for any time that I’ve made you feel lesser because of your faith or because it’s not something I agree with. I love you and your faith is a part of what makes you who you are, so… I do love your faith, even if I don’t have it. I love that it brings you happiness and a sense of fulfillment.”

When she glanced away from me after I’ve finished speaking, I’m expecting the worst to come. But instead, I watched as she took a deep breath and eventually turned back toward me, taking one of my hands inside of hers.

“Thank you.” That was the first thing that she had to say and I smiled reflexively. “I do feel great comfort in the idea of God, a sense of just not being alone, even when I’m angry at God. And I would love nothing more than for Harriet to have that same sense of comfort too although I don’t believe in forcing her to believe. If I force her to believe, then I’m failing her as a mother and a Christian. I fully believe that she should come to it on her own terms, even if I want to set the past up for her, you know? I want her to know that I’ll be there and to answer her questions. I know you’ve found it easier to not believe, which as you know somewhat confounds me. So… maybe one day there will be questions that she’s more comfortable asking you than me. And I’ll be okay with that, too. She should be free to take that path without fear of censure.”

The words are much more mature than what I expected to come from her and I realized immediately that I had been doubting her this entire time, guilt striking me down quickly with the light bulb going off. Of course she wanted the same things I did. Maybe she didn’t label it in the same way, maybe I didn’t have the same idea of an afterlife as she did, but we wanted the same thing for our daughter. We wanted Harriet to be happy and to find comfort and her place in the world. Maybe it’d happen with or without religion. But that was her choice, not ours.

“I agree with that,” I nodded my head as I spoke. “So… you teach her God. And I don’t mind going to church with you guys, even if I’m not going to participate in communion or anything like that. I just want to be with my girls,” I paused for a moment and smiled at her. “If she wants to stop going, though… then I think we need to let her. But we’ll both be here for when she’s not sure. So she can see both sides of the coin.”

“That’s fair,” April nodded.

“There’s one more thing,” I clarified and cleared my throat. “I don’t want her to think that’s God going to punish her for her sins. I’ve heard about your childhood stories and… some of those things just aren’t right, April. You can justify it with religion but there are some questionable moments there.” That was the big thing to tread carefully. I knew she loved her family, she wouldn’t question the way that she’d been brought up. But I would.

“My parents were never wrong to me, Jackson,” April defended them quickly.

“That’s not what I’m getting at,” I shook my head quickly before she could spiral too deeply. “It’s mostly the concept of God, the Judge I resent. That aspect bothers me the most. I don’t want her to think that she’s going to get struck down by lightning for one bad thought or action.”

A sigh escaped her lips but after a moment, she nodded. “I don’t want her to think that, either,” April agreed with a nod of her head. “You don’t think that me wanting to raise her as a Christian makes me a bad mother, do you?” She questioned. I hate that she had to ask it in the first place, but I’m glad that she took pause to actually ask instead of assuming like she would have done at one point in our life together.

“No, I don’t,” I answered clearly. “You’re an amazing mother, April, no matter what we do and don’t disagree on. And I’m sure that there are going to be more things down the road to disagree about. Hell, this will probably be a different conversation when she’s older than it is now. It’ll be harder when she’s able to ask questions and form her own opinions, for the both of us. Just because we’re not on the same page doesn’t mean I doubt your abilities as a mother. You’ve been through Hell and back for her. You’ve done more for her than I ever could.” I reached out to her as I spoke this time, taking one of her smaller hands between both of mine.

“I guess we’re both pretty good at the whole parenting thing,” she said with a shy smile forming on the corners of her mouth. I lean forward, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips and hummed in agreement.

We don’t actually get an appointment to tour the preschool until two weeks later, and that was with strings pulled. It’s a bit of a drive from where we were currently live, but that hopefully wouldn’t be an issue forever. It’s clean and nice looking, and I keep an open mind even with the crosses and Bible verses scattered throughout the tour. April did most of the talking, bubbling along nicely with the friend. Everyone did coo over Harriet, commented on her hand dexterity when she sat down to color while we went over a few details. There’s a point of pride.

Honestly, it was better than I would have given it credit for. My bias came solely from the fact that Christian came in their name and it was associated with the church, but it wasn’t all that bad. If she would consider my other choices, then I’d consider this one. It was fair.

It wasn’t until we were driving back to the hospital that we brave the actual discussion.

“What did you think about it?” April asked me.

“It’s nice,” I admitted with a nod and glance at her. “I still want to look at some of the other schools that we’ve been talking about, but I think that it’s a good option.”

I caught a glimpse of her beaming with my acceptance of the option, clearly proud that she had been able to sell me over on it. It was a good compromise, a fair one for the both of us. But I’d let her take it as a victory of her own. Seeing that smile was worth it.

“You know, though, most of the places that we’ve been looking at… they’re a bit far from where we’re both living right now,” I started. “I think that we should consider moving in together, down the line. After we’ve chosen a preschool that we want her to go to. I think that it would be good for all three of us.” Even if I wanted to spin it and make it out about us as a family unit, it was about us as a couple, too. I didn’t want to be just the father of her child.

“You’re not wrong,” April commented. “I just don’t want to rush things. It’s been good, taking this slow, working through things and not just diving on in headfirst to crack our heads open on the bottom of the pool. I like what we’ve been doing.” She rambled a little bit and I couldn’t help but give the slightest smile at it. “I’m open to the possibility, I am. I’m not saying that I’m not. Just… let’s see what preschool we end up in, and go from there, okay?” I could see her moving to look at me from the corner of my eye.

“That’s fair,” I agreed.

We had been doing a lot better now than we ever had before. But we’d never gotten to do this, really work things out and see step by step. Instead, we’d acted first and tried to repair whatever damage was caused in the midst of it. Finally going about things the right way was working out well for the both of us, together and individually. Between this and the contest, I’d felt like I was on top of the world lately. Work was going amazingly well, even with my mom and all of the vagina and orgasm jokes that I’d been forced to hear in the past weeks. Things at home were finally sailing along just as smoothly.

It’s quiet for a few moments and I don’t mind, NPR playing quietly on the radio even if I don’t pay much attention to it at the moment. Things with her, things at work, they took up most of my headspace. The rest of the world took somewhat of a back burner until one of the other things calmed down some.

But her next words pretty much blow me completely out of the water.

“If we hadn’t lost Samuel, we’d already had it figured out. He’d be in his first year of preschool.” April said quietly.

There was nothing wrong, not directly, about what she said. He would have been three, he would have been in preschool. Our entire lives would have been different, Harriet might not have even been in the picture. Or at least, the circumstances around her would have been drastically different. Who we were now was defined by the loss of our son, whether or not we wanted to actually own up to that.

“Yeah,” I let out a quiet breath. “I miss him too.”

“I think about him all the time.” April’s response is quick, something that she’s clearly thought about and prepared in her head more than I have. “I think about how good of a big brother he would have been to Harriet. He would have helped her with walking around. And maybe they would have gotten each other into some trouble, too. But I think that he would’ve been sweet more than anything else. I think that he would have looked like you, too. That’s why it was so hard to stay after we lost him. I looked around and Is aw you and the family that we should have had. I walked the halls of that hospital and all I could think was this is where it happened, this is where you told me, this is the room where Edwards saw it and didn’t say a word.”

Even if I had heard her justify going to Jordan multiple times before the divorce, it’d never been like this. It’d been focused on her saving herself, but not what she was actually saving herself from.

“I understand,” I said, reaching over and placing my hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry that I didn’t always understand. That’s… you know, that’s kind of why I took down the nursery without talking to you about it. It was a reminder of him and of you being gone.” I offered my own small explanation for another point of contention that we had dealt with when she’d come back. She’d hated the fact that I had ripped apart the nursery without so much as a heads up.

“I want to take Harriet to his grave, Jackson.” There was something raw and authentic in her voice, but the pain is still the clearest thing mixed in with the desperation. She’s in just as much agony as I am, even all of these years later. “I want her to know about her big brother.”

That was something that I had mixed feelings about. It didn’t seem entirely right to expose her to the concept of death so young, an abstract idea paired with someone that she would never know. Most kids were introduced to the idea through the death of their pet, or a neighbor, something that wasn’t quite so close. But… Harriet would never know Samuel. Her big brother would be as much of an abstract concept as the fact that he was dead. Even if it wasn’t a real conversation now, it would be one down the line, it was hard to know whether it’d be three years or eight or ten. 

I swallowed thickly, letting out a sigh. “Okay. We can do that this weekend.” I agreed. 

It’s only a few more quiet moments before we pull into the parking lot together, and I get Harriet out of her car seat. This time there’s no worry about what people will think with the two of us showing up together, we’d made it known exactly where we were going. Nothing weird about parents being side by side, even if I’ve still got that internal desire to make sure that people know we’re working it out. Maybe it’s still that intern.

Dropping off Harriet downstairs at the daycare, I’m not separated from her for very long before my pager is going off requesting me back to the emergency room. The page is from her, not to Hunt, much to my own pleasure. It doesn’t take long to spot her hair.

“Hey, you paged?”

“Yep, building explosion – two firefighters are hurt. Waiting for ortho to show up. From the sound of things on the phone, it looks like we’re going to be heading right up to the O.R.”

And she’s right. The second that they come rushing into the emergency room, it’s as if chaos has broken out when it came to trying to get him stable. Even just getting him from point A to point B was a challenge and he nearly coded before there was even a chance. Most of his body was covered in burns, broken bones – it was a miracle that he had made it this far. It’d be a long recovery and there wasn’t a lot of viable skin left for skin grafts. 

But despite what my first thoughts are going into surgery, somehow it’s not my entire focus. Not after things had calmed down enough that we’re all working on cohesion. I didn’t know the newest oath surgeon particularly well – Dr. Vargas. I can’t remember his first name off the top of my head, but he’s about our age, maybe a year or two little younger. He’d only been working here since Callie had left for New York but he wasn’t actually in charge of the department, just an attending.

The reason that he got my attention was the chatter with April. I never thought I’d feel like that much of a third wheel when it came to surgery, and certainly not with the mother of my children standing across the table, side by side with Vargas. But it’s more than enough to stir up jealousy in the pit of my stomach, and it’s not a pretty thing.

Finally scrubbing out hours later, it only gets worse. He’s cozy with her and I had to wonder just how much the two of them had been working together. Hunt and Torres had been close, I knew that trauma often overlapped with ortho. I’d never really had a problem with that until now.

“Hey, red, do you have plans this weekend?”

I don’t know if Vargas’ question or the little nickname that he’d given her made it worse.

“We do,” I interrupted before April had the chance to answer, clearing my throat and straightening up from the scrub sink after turning it off with my element. “With our kids.” This time, the plural is absolutely intentional, trying to jam another wedge between what he was trying to get out of her. That’s all it took to shut him down and send him in the other direction, fortunately.

“What was that?” April asked once it was just the two of them, turning toward me as she dried off her hands.

“We made plans in the car, remember?” I reminded her nonchalantly.

“That’s not what I meant,” she shook her head. “You. Getting all alpha male. Are you jealous of Hunter?” Ah, yeah. So that was his first name.

“He’s a little cozy with you,” I commented, not wanting to answer her question directly.

April stepped forward and closed the distance between us, her hands cupping my face and pulling me down into a kiss. I lean into her easily, breathing her in and finding grip on the curve of her waist, pulling her hips to flush against my frame. It only lasted a few seconds, but it’s more than enough to alleviate the green inside of me. When our lips break, she doesn’t even take a breath before speaking.

“It’s okay. I’m only comfy with you.”


	10. Chapter 10

_**APRIL** _

The week goes by faster than I'm expecting.

It's not like I haven't been to Samuel's grave before. That was far from the case. On the worst of days, with the things that I couldn't handle, I'd end up sitting next to his headstone and tracing over the letters, talking to him and praying for him, saying all of the things that I wish I would have been able to while he was alive. There was so much that I had wanted to do and say, opportunities that neither of us had. I knew that Jackson had done the same thing in the past few years. We'd tried to go together at the beginning. But it had only been painful for the both of us. We had learned quickly it was one thing that was better to do on our own terms.

But there were some things that the two of us had just been better at when we were parents. Hopefully, this would be another one of those things.

When I wake up on Saturday morning, I'm in his bed and alone. I pause for a moment, absorbing the surroundings. It's later than I usually sleep in on the weekends and I can hear him – judging by the sound and tone of his voice, he's talking to Harriet, which means they both of them are already up. Sunlight streamed in the room and I pause for a moment to stretch out across the sheets like a cat, embracing the pops from a long sleep.

I finally get up, splashing water on my face, brushing my teeth, and combing through my hair to try and resolve some of the bedhead. Only afterward do I join the two of them in the kitchen, a bright smile on my cheeks, resolved to momentarily ignore what we have planned for today.

"Good morning you two," I greeted, giving Harriet a quick kiss on the head in her high chair before gravitating toward the coffee pot.

"Morning," Jackson chirped back.

"Mama!" Harriet called out, banging her half-empty bowl of cereal on her tray enthusiastically.

"Hi, my sweet nugget," I coo toward her with a smile. I'm quick to get my cup of coffee made and creamer in, taking a long sip form the liquid. Even if I'd gotten to sleep in more than usual, coffee in the morning was pretty much just a habit at this point. No need to deal with caffeine withdrawals when today was going to be tough enough on its own.

"I was starting to think that you were never going to get up," Jackson half-chuckled. "Do you want breakfast? I can fry you an egg or make an omelet, whatever you want." He offered.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not super hungry. I think I'm just gonna eat a banana. Maybe a granola bar."

It's not just a lack of hunger. Skipping meals had always been a bad habit of mine whenever I was upset, no matter what the particular circumstances were. I shut down, I forgot to take care of myself. I'd done it when Samuel died, attached myself to that nursery chair until I was practically shaped in the same way that it was. But mostly, when it becomes too much, I get nauseous. I don't want to throw up at the cemetery. That's the last place I want to do it.

"What time do you want to go?" Jackson asked me. I paused for a moment in avoidance of answering, taking another sip from the mug of coffee in hands and grabbing a banana to unreel it. I take a big bite out of it, chewing and swallowing before beginning to answer a shower.

"I don't know. I need to take a shower first." I gave a slight shrug.

"Well, how about you shower and get dressed then we can go. I'll get Harriet ready. Maybe we can grab lunch afterward – there are a few places over in that neck of the woods that I don't think we've been to before," he suggested with a raise of his eyebrows.

I don't want to, but I nod. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Of course, that was a blatant lie. I knew that today was going to be painful in ways that I couldn't even begin to imagine and that I wasn't going to be able to break down in the same way, not in front of Harriet. Even if she was only one and a few months, if there was no chance that she would actually remember this day, I didn't want to do that in front of her. I wanted to be strong. I wanted her to know that people could go through horrible things and still be okay, that it was possible to survive and overcome no matter what life threw at you.

That did seem like a little bit of a stretch, though. Some days I wasn't sure if I was doing anything more than surviving. Some days it didn't feel like I was living. But at least those days had been shrinking lately, not nearly as bad as it had been a few weeks ago.

I take my time in the shower, shampooing and conditioning my hair, letting hot water rush over me. I washed my face and shaved my legs, and use a little too much of his body wash. I can't quite identify what it smells like besides manly and him, really, but I like having it all over me. It's only after I've taken a completely obnoxious amount of time and the mirrors in his bathroom are covered with steam from the shower that I finally twist off the flow of water and get out. Goosebumps cover my skin once I begin to cool down and I grab one of the towels that I'd set, wrapping it around my body. The other goes on top of my head, twisting my hair up so it's not dripping all over the bathroom floor.

I'd laid out underwear, jeans, and a blouse to put on once I got out of the shower. Instead of getting dressed immediately though, I sit on the counter in my towel, just taking a pause. Jackson's got the TV on some kids show that I can't identify from sound alone. That meant she was probably already dressed. I really had spent awhile in the shower.

Once I forced myself back on my feet again, it doesn't take me very long to get ready. There's no point in putting on a lot of makeup when I know I'm running the risk of sobbing all of it off. A layer of tinted moisturizer and chapstick was going to be enough for today. I towel dried my hair until it was damp and then ran a brush through it before pulling it back into a braid.

"Hi," I greet the both of them when I emerge into the living room, dressed and at least presenting to be ready to go. I wasn't. But I knew I never really would be.

"You ready?" Jackson asked. I'm already scooping Harriet up in my arms and giving a little twirl, one that makes her squeal with delightful laughter. It's enough to bring a big smile to my face. No matter what was going on or bothering me, that smile, that was enough to bring me right back down to where I needed to be. I kissed her on each cheek and her forehead, snuggling her against me comfortably and taking a deep breath.

"Mmhm," I hummed out the lie.

I get her strapped tightly in the car seat before joining him in the front seat. We drive to the cemetery quietly, knowing that there's not much either of us could say. We hadn't talked about how we were going to approach it or what exactly we were going to say to her. The perks of her not remembering now were we'd have a few chances to get it right. Today probably wouldn't be that day. When we finally park, we're both still got a moment.

There's nothing to really say, but Jackson reached over for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. For a moment, it's enough. He gets out of the car quicker than I do and gets Harriet unstrapped, and I follow him slowly. I take her from his arms, breathing her in. She'd give me comfort.

We both know exactly where his grave is, the little walk from the gate of the cemetery to his headstone memorized. We're careful not to step on any of the other graves that we walked by, wanting to be disrespectful. It's a cloudy day but it's not raining, a few other people there. But there's no point in focusing, no polite smiles or greetings exchanged. We're all here for the same reason, at the root of it. To grieve. To remember. To try and go forward with our lives as if a piece wasn't missing from them.

_Samuel Norbert Avery._

_February 12th, 2015._

_Beloved Son._

I've seen the words a thousand times and seeing them this time still bring a fresh sparkle of tears to my eyes. There's nothing in the world that made it easier. Even if I'd only hold him in my arms for minutes, it didn't matter. Any woman has a special bond with their baby during pregnancy. He baby is very real. He was there. The attachment was real and there. I had never felt him kick or move inside of me, but I had known that he was there. My little Buddha baby.

I'd read articles about healing after the loss of a child, trying to make sense of it. Even years later, I can still remember one particular tidbit about having realistic expectations about grief. It was a complex process that has no deadlines. I'd learned that. Deadlines didn't exist. Going back to work I had forced on a smile, and even after a year in Jordan, I'd still felt the same. But there were waves and unpredictable ups and downs. It was supposed to bring on some eventual sense of healing, supposedly. I'd gone back and forth over the years about whether or not I completely believed that. But having Harriet in my arms, for a minute, I can find there to be something more.

But I had made the decision to survive, and I would.

"Hi, Sammy," I whispered. I'm slow to get down on my knees, making sure not to jar Harriet too much as I go down. I change her position so she's sitting on my lap and facing toward his headstone, her back pressed up against my front. From the corner of my eye, I can see Jackson setting down onto the grass as well.

"Hey, big man," he said affectionately. For a long moment, the two of us share a look.

Harriet reached forward and placed her hands on the cool stone that bore her big brother's name, tracing over the letters. I'm not sure if she knows what I'm doing or can recognize that they're the same shapes as the books we both read her. I'd like to think that she did.

My heart was already racing inside of my chest but I had resolved myself to do this and to be strong. I wanted to be. But the tightness is there and eating me away already and I've barely managed to say a word. The same pain was mirrored across Jackson's expression, as stoic as he normally presented himself to be, this was his weak spot just as much as it was mine. He had brought flowers, a small bundle of white roses. He had been the one to go through flowers and their various meanings after Samuel had died, trying to figure out which was best. I still remember their meaning – purity, innocence, reverence, silence. It had fit, during the worst of it. It was exactly what we both needed.

"Harriet, baby, will you listen to mommy and daddy for a minute?" I prompt, getting her attention.

"Yes." She offered a clear answer.

I fall silent, words escaping me and my mouth running dry. My lips part but nothing comes out. It's like I'm suddenly choking on air and there's nothing to be said, no sound capable of escaping other than a wallowing scream for everything that we had lost. I knew it was unhealthy to linger so heavily in the past, but this was one thing that my mind refused to let go of.

Jackson spoke to fill my silence. "Where we are right now," he started. "This is your big brother. Samuel. Mommy and I loved him very much." He started slowly. His gaze moved from our daughter to me, and I can see in his eyes that he's trying to ask me if I'm okay.

"We loved him so, so much," I echoed his words, voice tight. "Just like we love you so, so much." I pull her closer to me for a moment to kiss the top of her head. "And he loves you so much, too. He's looking out for you from up above." Maybe I'm pushing my luck on the boundaries of religion, but I don't know how to explain it. I don't know what to say other than God was looking out for our little boy, the same way that he would look after us one day. How Jackson can think of Samuel and not think of God – it's completely beyond me.

"Can you say Sammy?" Jackson asked, pulling the focus away from me for a moment. Harriet turned her head toward her father's voice, sputtering out a few indistinct syllables for a moment. Then it comes.

"Sam."

It's too much for me to handle all at once. My throat closed in around itself and it's hard to breathe. I let go of my grip on Harriet for a moment and she's completely fine with it, standing on her own two feet and one of the headstone to keep herself steady and upright. My hands pressed down against the top of my thighs, rubbing along them for a moment and trying to suck in oxygen. Nothing comes.

"Can you… can you take her…" I barely get the question past my lips, chest heaving and heart racing inside of the confines of my ribcage. It felt like a hummingbird, desperate to break free from the confines that it was in, to free itself from the pain and suffering that it was being exposed to. I can't blame it. My fingers were tingling and I press them harder against the tops of my thighs in an attempt to try and normalize some of the sensations there, but it doesn't get any easier. _I can't breathe. I can't breathe._ The tears in my eyes are suddenly overwhelming and make it that much harder to focus on the world outside of my body, not able to see much more than a blur. My frame had begun to rock back and forth on its own accord and it only made everything that much blurrier to try and process.

Jackson's talking to me but his words are lost in the wind, unable to comprehend what was being said. He's saying something and I'm losing my mind. It's the only explanation for it. It's finally become too much and I'm going off the deep end. The only surprise was that it took this long to happen in the first place.

The contact on my back scares me at first and I reflexively flinch at the touch, but it doesn't shy away. Instead, there are circles being rubbed across it, trying to ground me back into reality.

"April, sweetheart, just listen to the sound of my voice, okay? Just listen to me." Jackson pleaded with me. It takes a few long moments before I can blink enough and force out the tears, trying to see what was happening. He's there, right there in my personal space, Harriet in his opposite arm to try and keep her still and unaware of what exactly was going on. He's still speaking and I can at least focus on the sound of his voice even if I'm not entirely processing what was being said to me.

"I'm right here," Jackson whispered, "Everything will be all right. Just breathe."

The words are soothing yet there's an instinctual part of me that wanted to argue. Everything wouldn't be alright. Our son was still dead and there was nothing that was going to change that. He was dead. _He was dead._ I had to raise our daughter in a world where she could be taken away from us at the snap of a finger without any sense or logic behind it. What kind of cruel world was that? I focus my gaze on her for a moment, trying to bring myself out of it. She's here. She's alive. She's healthy. She's happy. The simple sentences play through my mind over and over again, trying to bring a little logic into the moment, trying to focus on the good. But more than anything, I need a sign. A sign that things would be okay. Jackson's support in the heat of the moment was decent, he was doing everything right, but I craved for something more.

"You're okay," Jackson reassured me. I take another shaky breath and lean into him for a moment, ear to his chest, able to hear the sound of his heart beating beneath the skin and bones. My eyes shut, trying to focus on it. Instead, another distractor comes forward. This time it's a tiny hand in my hair, determined to wrap a strand in her tiny fist.

"Hi baby," I whisper to my daughter, blindly reaching for her. My hand found the fist in my hair, wrapping my own around hers. I'm not trying to control her this time, just have some contact with her.

"Are you okay?" Jackson asked, pressing a kiss on the top of my head.

I don't know what to say. So instead, I apologize. "I'm sorry." As if that made any sense.

"You don't need to say that, April," he insisted with a shake of his head. "You just had a panic attack. And you know what? It happens. After everything… it's normal. I just want to know that you're okay now." As he spoke, his hand rubbed along my spine, a firm but still soothing touch.

My mouth opened to repeat the same words but this time when nothing escaped, it's intentional. Instead, I suck in a deep breath, trying to slow my heart back down. It's still pounding away, not quite as fast but still higher than it should have been for sitting down on the ground.

"I'll be okay." I offered up instead. Maybe it wouldn't be true for the next five minutes, but it's not the first time I've had a panic attack. As much as I would have liked for it to be the last one, well, that didn't seem like it was likely. "I'll be okay," I repeat the words for my own benefit this time, breathing deeply through my nose once more. Breathing eased some of the pain that still lingered in my chest, even if it doesn't completely get rid of the dead of anxiety that still permeated throughout my system. Supposedly fresh air was supposed to help.

"Do you have water in the car?" I asked suddenly, glancing up at him. "I'm– my mouth is dry," I explained, wetting my lips.

"Yeah." Jackson nodded his head. He stood up quickly with Harriet attached to his hip before offering me a hand. I paused for just a moment, taking two more intentional breaths. Then I leave over to Samuel's headstone and press a tender kiss on it, as if I was kissing that too tiny baby that I had held three years ago. Then I take his hand, pulling myself back onto my feet again.

I stare down at his headstone for a moment longer, movement from the corner of my eyes distracting me. It's a butterfly. Colorful orange wings circle and flap for a moment, grabbing Harriet's attention. She points and blabbered something – I can't tell what exactly she's trying to get at. But after a moment of flying around, the butterfly landed on his headstone, resting there for a moment.

My sign.

One more tear slipped past my eyes, but this time, I'm not entirely sure if it was coming from a place of sadness or something else entirely.

Once we're back to his car, I grab the water bottle from the center upholder and quickly drained half of it. Jackson focused on getting Harriet into the car and we pause for a moment, just sitting there. I already know that he wants to talk about it, and I don't.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked me, reaching over to take one of my hands and rubbing his thumb across the back of my knuckles.

"Yeah. I… I just couldn't breathe." That was perhaps the closest to opening up about it that I would get. I knew that Jackson had panic attacks in the past. After the shooting, I'd catch him in the midst of them, in the midst of nightmares. He had been a mess, just like the rest of us, even if he'd always been good at covering it up. But that was one of the things that had bonded us. No one else really understood losing Percy and Reed.

"You're okay now." Jackson offered the reassurance of words before beginning to pull out of the parking spot.

"Can we go somewhere a little casual for lunch?" I requested. "I'm feeling a little nauseous now. I kind of just want soup and salad." I elaborated slightly.

"Sure, that's fine." He agreed easily.

I reach into my purse, grabbing a contact mirror and giving a quick glance at myself. My eyes are a little red but there was nothing I could do to change that. I reapply my lip balm and sit there quietly, not wanting to open up further about it. We both knew exactly why it had happened. Going to Samuel's grave was always hard, talking about it even more difficult. But hearing Harriet say her big brother's name, like it was something that she was meant to do… that had just been too much.

Lunch is quick enough. Or at least, as quick as a one year old allowed us to be. I get down most of the tomato soup and some of a caesar salad without upsetting my stomach much further. I make sure that Harriet gets as much of the grilled cheese as she's willing to take and her fruit cup. She loves fruit. Everything else, well, she doesn't seem quite as crazy about. My fault, probably.

Once we're in the car again, I can tell that he's already driving back to his house. Mine isn't particularly far from his nor out of the way, but he's going off the assumption with all the time that we've spent together in the past few weeks.

"Uh, will you take me back to my house?" I ask, glancing over at him.

"Yeah, sure," Jackson agreed with a nod of his head. "Something up?"

If I were him, my first assumption would have been that it had something to do with the panic attack and not particularly wanting to confront it in front of him. It was fair, reasonable. I did wonder if that was the one going on inside of his head or if it was something else entirely. I'm not nearly as shaky after lunch as I had been walking in, but I haven't entirely settled down, either.

"I think I'm going to go to church in the morning, actually," I announced, half a smile threatening my composure. "And I need to water my plants," I added as an afterthought.

"Church?" Jackson questioned. Before I have the chance to assume the worst, he surprises me. "Good. That's good."

He's being supportive. The tiny smile becomes a full-blown one, not so much feeding off of his approval like I had been guilty of on occasion, but instead relieved. The conversation that we had hadn't just been all talk. He was applying it to small things, everyday things. If he could do it, then I could do it. Maybe it could just be that simple for once.

"Yeah…" I agreed with a small nod of my head. "It's about time I start going again."

When we finally get to my place, I say goodbye to Harriet with loads of kisses, reminding her that I would see her soon. It could be tomorrow, it could be Tuesday – I wasn't sure. Jackson and I didn't do quite as much planning about what we were doing lately even if we had stuck to our day of switching off with who's house she was, so that was always guaranteed. Of course, Jackson got a goodbye kiss of his own, sweet and chaste.

The rest of the day goes by in a flash. Between cleaning, watering plants, and getting some grocery shopping done, it's easy to keep busy for the daylight hours and retire with a few episodes of _Parks & Rec_ at night.

My alarm goes off early the next morning for church, and there's no dread for once. I put on a simple floral dress and nude heels, properly curl my hair. I'd always believed in dressing up for church and being in the presence of God, even if I'd noticed that over the years people became more and more casual about what they are wearing. I'd never gotten on board with that particular trend, but I don't mind. The service is about the secret of spiritual growth. I try hard to listen to it. God knew that right now, I needed it.

But it's not until after the service and most of the pews had cleared out that I really get what I need. I kneel down and I speak.

I talk to Samuel. I tell him about how much I love him and miss him, that I think about him every day regardless of where my faith stood. I tell him about how beautiful his baby sister is and how I know that he would have been the best possible big brother to him if he had gotten the chance. Tears stream down my face and this time there's no effort to stop them. I'm alone, or close enough to it, and I can let all of it out without having to worry about what anyone else in the world thought about me. Right now, this conversation was between three people. Me, Samuel, and God.

I finally rise to my feet again after what seemed like a long time, my knees stiff and red from the poor position. I barely get a few steps out of the aisle before my pastor nearly gives me a heart attack in surprising me.

"We've missed you around these parts, April." Father Thomas' voice grabbed my attention.

"H-hi," I stutter out. "Sorry. It's uh, it's just…" I realize that I don't have any clue what I'm supposed to say. Crazy didn't cover it. Telling him that I'd been more time cursing God and everything that he stood for, drinking like crazy? Not exactly a great option, either.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain," he reassured me after a moment. "I just wanted to make sure you knew you were missed, that's all."

I smiled at him sincerely for a moment. I'd been doubting my own place among everything else, who I really was when I didn't have my faith to define me. There's something relieving in knowing that he had noticed. It wasn't like this was a small church, it was no doubt easy for anyone to blend in the crowd and keep their head down if they wanted to. But he was why I liked it here. He made me feel apart of something bigger. Even if I was just another member of the flock, each member was an important one. We all meant something.

"Thank you, Father." I take the extended hand, shaking it firmly. "I'll see you next weekend."

And I would. But it would be with Harriet at my side.


	11. Chapter 11

**_ JACKSON _ **

"Hey, how are you doing?" It's bright and early on a Monday morning and April was wearing a smile on her face that was rare to see roaming the halls of the hospital. It came out around Harriet, occasionally around me, but now it seemed to be gracing her expression of her own free will.

"Hm?" April turned toward me, perked brows.

"You okay?"

She should know why I was asking. I'd tried not to force a conversation and make too much of a big deal of it in the heat of the moment, not wanting to overwhelm her any further, but watching her have a panic attack hadn't been easy. I knew that there was nothing I could do to help, and there were moments when I wanted to do the same thing. Those were the kind of moments that had led me to tear apart the nursery piece by piece, unable to take the reminder anymore, of losing the both of them. Sometimes time really was the only thing that helped.

"Yeah, I'm… I'm fine." She answered, but I wasn't thoroughly convinced. I stared down at her for a moment longer until she continued. "I went to church yesterday, and it was good. I was thinking that this weekend I would take Harriet with me, too." Her head moved as she smiled up at me. That makes me believe her.

"Really? That's good." I'm not offended by the prospect, it wasn't like she was going to remember anything about it. I wanted her to have a connection like that with her mother, things that the two of them did together. Just like I wanted to have the same thing with her. "You should."

"Yeah…" She hummed. The smile on her lips was beautiful and I find myself just staring down at her for a moment, unable to help myself. There's a sheen of lip gloss across her lips, a little pinker than their natural hue. But the way that she smiles like that doesn't draw as much attention to her mouth as it does her eyes. Sunshine practically poured from them when she displayed that kind of radiating happiness. "Did you need anything else?" April asked.

"No, I just wanted to check in." I shook my head. I'm not sure if it's brazen or reasonable to state the words quite so directly given the way that she had first pushed me off when it came to caring for her, but for now, she seems much calmer.

"Thanks, Jackson. I really am okay today, though. Promise." April held out her pinky to me and I chuckled, taking the tiny digit in my own and giving it a squeeze. Then I leave down further, brushing my lips across the top of her head. Maybe we hadn't gone completely public about working on things just yet, but it's not particularly crowded around here just yet, and I can't help myself. it feels like a habit, like something that I should have been doing all the time. I don't want to hide my love for her. But that was another conversation.

"I've got a busy day today, but I'll see you around, okay?"

"Sure thing," she chirped and nodded her head.

I give her one more lingering smile before I make my way up to the burn unit to deal with the patients there. I wanted to make sure everything was still running smoothly between the residents and interns handling my cases while I was working on research and techniques for the contest. There were still twenty-four other cases to compete again. Some of which I'm not worried about. Even if I'd been hesitant to get on board with Dr. Velez's idea for changing the way that vaginoplasties were done, it was a solid project and had a good foundation.

It surprised me that I don't see her throughout the day. Probably a good thing for the patients that did come to the emergency room, but I liked to keep an eye on her. It seemed like she was getting better. She'd gone to church, she'd let out her emotions… I hadn't seen her drinking lately, either. Signs were pointed in the right direction.

Of course, the last thing that I want is to be controlling. In a way, I know that I don't have any rights over her – I'd never really as her husband, not in that kind of way, and I especially didn't have the same kind of leniency now that we were divorced. But that didn't mean that I was comfortable with it. I wasn't. I wanted to be there for her every step of the way and without hesitation, without wondering if other people were going to see us together and question what exactly was going on between the two of us. We're still co-parents at the end of the day, and that was always going to come first no matter what else was going on. But I didn't want to just be that with her. I just didn't want to push her too soon. Finding that balance was a difficult thing.

Waiting until the end of the day, I make a plan to go and find her. A quick stop by the O.R. floor let me know that she wasn't in surgery at the moment. I head back downstairs to the emergency room, peaking my head around to try and find her. The only redhead roaming around down here was Owen, though, not the one that I was looking for.

"Hey, is April around?" I asked, grabbing his attention.

"Uh, no," Hunt answered as he glanced up at me. "She left a bit ago, wasn't feeling well and I told her she could head home early. Everything alright?"

"Sick wasn't feeling well, or…?" I give a little motion with my hand, not wanting to say it. I'd thought that she was doing well and the idea of her sneaking out to go off the deep end again troubled me.

"I'm not sure," Owen admitted with a sigh. "I… she's been off all day. Not in the way that she has been the best few weeks, but acting like nothing happened. I tried to ask her about it and she brushed it off. She's been pretty jittery, too." There's a tense pause for a moment, but his mind took things a step further than mine did – likely because of his ex-wife. "Is there any chance that she's on something?"

I stared at him blankly. "What? April?" I shake my head. "No, there's no way." She couldn't have been doing something like that. Wouldn't. Not when she'd been making so much progress. "She thinks weed should stay a crime. There's no way that she'd do anything like that."

I hope I'm right. I really, really hope I'm right.

"I'm gonna head out – but let me know if you hear anything from here, okay?" I prompted.

Upon the nod of his head, I turn on my heel and head to daycare to pick up Harriet. I have to debate with myself for a moment if I want to take her over to April's with me, or if I'm better calling our babysitter. Harriet was the thing that brought her joy more than anything else, the thing that made her light up, smile and laugh. But if there was even a slim chance that she was on some kind of spiral… then she didn't need to be around her daughter. That seemed like such a slim chance. I sigh, sitting in the front seat of my car for a minute, trying to decide. It's only when Harriet lets out some whining syllables that I make up my mind.

Driving over to April's house doesn't take long. It's a short distance from the hospital and rush hour was more or less over. What does take long is the moment of indecision once I'm parked on the curb outside of her house. It felt like one of those moments where giving her a heads up was necessary. But I don't.

With Harriet attached to my hip, I slowly make my way up to her front porch. I pause there for a moment, looking at our daughter. She's growing into more of a mixture of the both of us with each passing day, curls getting more distinctly mine even if her face is starting to resemble that of your mother.

"I'm worried about your momma, you know," I murmured to her. "I hope she's okay."

Raising my fist, I knock on the door, hearing some mumbled call out from the other side that only concerns me further. At least she's at home and not at some random bar that would have me hunting halfway across the city to try and find her.

"Hey," April answered breathlessly when she swung open the door. "What are you doing here? It's Monday."

"I know," I answered quickly. "I just wanted to check up on you. Hunt said that you went home early…"

My voice trailed off, not wanting to give away too much of the conversation that I'd had with him. I knew she didn't like it when other people talked about her, much less for her wellbeing. I still remembered the way that she'd just about lost it on me when it came to the way that I'd talked him into pulling her out of the O.R. during the midst of all things Samuel related.

"Yeah, I uh…" she paused, scratching the back of her head. "I just got a little lightheaded. No big deal."

"Are you sure?" I questioned. I had to. My eyes shifted to her frame, looking for some kind of indication of what was really wrong even if there was really nothing to see there.

"Yeah." April nodded her head a little more enthusiastically than before. "Do you wanna come in?" She stepped back, opening the door wider. I offered a brief smile and stepped past the barrier of her house, letting her take Harriet from my arms for now.

Even if there was something wrong, she certainly didn't share it with the enthusiasm that she embraced Harriet with. She covered the little girl's cheek in noisy raspberries until our daughter was giggling at her mother, lifting her up high in the air as if reenacting the scene from _Lion King_. April spun around with our daughter stretched high in the air before settling her back down on the curve of her hip again, absolutely beaming as she nuzzled curls with her nose gently.

"Did you eat dinner yet?" I asked, setting down Harriet's diaper bag by the door.

"No, my stomach's a little upset," she shook her head.

"Do you want me to make some soup? Do you have any chicken noodle?" While speaking, I had already begun to make my way to her kitchen to examine the contents. It's a little smaller than the one that we used to share, but I know exactly how she has it organized. She's a creature of habit. It was a little nice to see that some things really didn't change.

"Jackson, I'm fine, really." April insisted as she followed me into the kitchen.

I turn around to face her for a moment, offering a smile. "It's no big deal, you know." I folded my arms for a moment to watch the both of them, leaning back against the marble counter. "You've always been stubborn whenever you don't feel well. I remember when you had your first period after we got married. You acted like it was fine all day, then when I got home you were curled up with the heating pad and a bottle of Midol on the nightstand." It's a tiny memory of our married life, and I miss coming home to her. Heading over to her place after work just isn't the same.

But of course, April chuckled and rolled her eyes at me. "You were just grumpy because I don't want to have sex on my period." She teased.

"Well, it goes a little deeper than that…"

Another real smile pulled at her lips and she reached over with one hand, flicking at my ear. I swatted her hand away playfully, but I quickly grab her wrist and tug her a little closer, kissing inside right along her pulse point. I smile at her for a moment before lightly nipping at the skin.

"I'd like to see proof of that," April retorted and shook her head, though the amusement still brought light to her face. A light that I was grateful to see. Staring at her, the assessment that Hunt had made didn't seem quite fair. Maybe he was seeing too much of Amelia and the way that she had spun out. It'd been a public ordeal, hard to watch. But she wasn't going through the same thing. She'd drank too much during the worst of it, sure, but her main problem wasn't alcohol. That was just an outlet for her. One that she didn't seem to need anymore. I was thankful for that.

"Where's the fun in that?" I remarked, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

"You're terrible," she chuckled. "Our daughter is right there."

I love the reassurance of the word our. Even if it was simple and factual in our case, with the way that things had started out back when she had been pregnant, it's important to me. She's a piece of both of us, the most important one. Maybe I'm getting more sentimental with age, but it's hard not to with having Harriet around.

"Fine," I concede easily. "You still want that soup?" Not that she'd actually agreed to it in the first place.

"Sure," she nodded. Her frame turned back toward Harriet for a moment, walking over into the living room and getting down on the floor with her. Most of the living room was covered with blocks and toys of all kinds of varieties. I turn my focus back onto the kitchen for a moment, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup. I pour it out into one of the smaller pots, beginning to heat it up slowly.

April kept her focus on Harriet, down on her knees with her and enthusiastic as ever. Harriet had begun to become more focused on pretend play, and I'm unsurprised to see the newest addition to the toy collection that was under this roof. The Fisher-Price Little People Fun Sounds Farm, along with the additional Animal Farm Friends. I probably should have seen something like that coming on a little sooner – she'd chosen that over princess and castle motifs, not that I mind. I know not raising a bratty or spoiled child is important to her, and that growing up on the farm had shaped the work ethic that April had. Plus, there's something endlessly amusing and adorable about listening and watching her initiate chickens, pigs, and cows.

With her soup done, I turn off the stove and pull a bowl down on the cabinet, slowly pouring some of the warm soup into it and leaving the rest covered to keep warm. I stick a spoon inside of the bowl before walking around to the living room to hand it to her.

"C'mon, let's switch off."

The suggestion is accepted with ease. April settled down at the table to swallow some of her soup and I keep an eye on both Harriet and her. Watching out for both of my girls was always going to be a priority. My animals noises aren't half as convincing as April's are, but it still is enough to get plenty of giggles and laughter out of Harriet. She doesn't mind.

"You know, it's starting to get near Harriet's bedtime," April commented as she got up from the kitchen sink to wash her bowl out in the sink. "I think she's starting to hit the next sleep regression period. I mean, we've been putting her to bed a bit earlier…" Her voice trails off, sounding as she's a little guilty about that because we both know why. So we could have sex. But, it had been mutually beneficial. "I think that maybe we should start letting her sleep with a lovey. That's what they recommend at this age." She explained.

I nodded. "That's a good idea. She's pretty attached to her horsie. It might be good." I'm not quite sure if she's trying to kick me out for the night, so I try for the alternative. "Why don't I go put her down?" I offered with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Sure. I'm gonna store the rest of this soup for later." April agreed.

I give her another smile and scoop Harriet off the floor, moving to the nursery. This was one that she put together on her own – mostly, at least, I vaguely recall overhearing her talking to Owen and probably getting his help with some of the heavy lifting involved. It's classic, feminine. Plenty of animals and pink accenting the white walls and matching crib. I've only really been in here a few times.

"C'mon, sweetie." It only took me a minute to acquaint myself with how things were laid out and get her into a pair of pajamas. I don't mess around or snoop too much, focusing on the task at hand. She's well fed, burped. Hopefully, she would go down easily.

Harriet initially puts up a little fuss when I play her down on the cot, and I keep my hand down in there with her. I pat her gently, and after a little while longer of fussing, I grab her horsie from the dresser and place it down with her. Harriet grabbed onto the stuffed animal immediately, clutching onto it. I waited until she had mostly fallen still until I begin to slowly creep out of the room, not wanting to disturb her whatsoever.

"No! No! No!" Harriet yelled loudly. It's enough to get me right back by her side again, shushing her gently and rubbing her. As she was getting bigger, neither of us wanted her to get too riled up before bedtime. Not enough that she'd try and climb out of the crib, or anything like that. The process repeated itself again, but when I approached her again, she doesn't calm down with her fussing. I pick her up from her crib gently, not wanting to listen to her fuss. We'd probably messed with her routine with all of the back and forth lately. "No!" She shouted once more. "Mama! Mama!" She cried out.

Hearing the shouting of her distressed daughter, April appeared in the nursery only moments later with a deep frown on her expression. It only encourages our daughter to yell out once more when she sees what she wants.

"Mama!" We both step toward each other and Harriet is passed off into her mother's arms, but I don't back off. I soothe her back gently. I'm not offended that she calls out for her mother. This was her house, her mother's nursery. She's probably used to falling asleep with April watching over her in here, not me. But after only a moment of being settled into her mom's arms, she's calling out and shouting again. "Dada! Dada!"

"You're gonna have to make up your mind, peanut." April cooed at her, giving a little pout. "You're sleepy and you're fussy. Let's get you to sleep, huh?"

I step beside April so that I can wrap my arm around her smaller frame, the other supporting her hold on Harriet and making sure that our daughter knew that the both of us were right there. April began to sing to her softly, and I have the privilege of standing there and listening.

_"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high;_

_There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby._

_Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue,_

_And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."_

She's got a beautiful voice, always had. She never actually admitted it to anyone, always shy, but it was soothing. The verse had to be repeated a few times before it got Harriet to settle down completely, finally falling quiet and rather still in April's arms. There's a tense moment as we inch back toward the crib and April bent over to set her down, both of us letting out a sigh of relief when she doesn't wake up and start to throw another tantrum. I grab the baby monitor and we quietly tiptoe out of the room, pulling the door shut gently.

"Thanks for that," I breathe out, giving her a smile. "I guess sometimes you just want your mom."

"Mm, she got that from you," April chuckled easily. "I actually have something that I want to show you. Give me a minute, okay? I'm sure there's some March Madness game or something else going on that you can distract yourself with."

"Sure." There's a little bit of skepticism in my voice and I give a slight raise of my brow but I let it go for a moment, heading in the opposite direction back to her hallway. I pick up some of the mess that had been made with Harriet playing before settling down on the couch and stretching out my legs, flipping on the television. I'm almost positive that April hadn't been keeping up with March Madness or brackets in any what possible, but I'm pretty sure that our marriage had taught her there was always some kind of sports game to be found on television.

I flip through channels for a moment before settling on a rerun of a game that I'd already missed. If it was anything important, well, then I'd be able to ignore what was going on without worry. Or at least without the same distraction that live television provided.

"Okay, so…" April announced her presence in the living room by diving right into a story. "I kind of lied to Hunt. Not, lied lied, but a little white lie. I was really feeling kind of gross. I didn't actually need to go home earlier but I wanted to run by babyGap. Don't say anything judgmental. I'm not impulsive money spending to cope or anything like that now. I was after one very specific item." Her words rambled on quickly and nervously, clearly trying to get somewhere to the point even if I couldn't quite figure out where yet. My eyebrows furrowed, examining her for a moment.

"What's the all-important item?" I asked, trying to get her to continue with her explanation.

"Here." April stepped forward, handing me the bag. It wasn't wrapped or anything fancy, still inside the bag from the gap. "See for yourself. It's really cute. It might be a size too big for her right now but she's growing like a weed so I'm sure it'll fit her in another month or two."

Giving her another nod of the head, I open up the bag and pull out a shirt. It's a white tee and it doesn't seem like any kind of big deal until I turn it over and read the front.

_Big sister._

The two simple words were written in a swirly font, big and bold. I blink a few times, staring at the text and absorbing it. April was pregnant? My head quickly jerked up to look at her and she was beaming at me with the most beautiful smile in the world, nodding her head before I could even begin to ask if she was really pregnant.

"I can't believe it," I expressed gleefully, getting up to pull her against me, leaning down and sealing my lips on top of hers in another kiss. "We're having another baby."


	12. Chapter 12

**_ APRIL _ **

The joy that radiated from Jackson's face doesn't surprise me. I knew that he would be happy. Parenthood was a journey that the both of us loved dearly. 

But I knew that it wasn't that simple. Samuel and Harriet's pregnancies had both come from complicated places in our lives. This wasn't any different just because the past couple of weeks had gone smoothly compared to the place that we had been before that. It wasn't a fix. A bandaid, maybe, but the underlying issues were still there. Those wouldn't go away, even with the hopefully healthy baby growing inside of me.

Of course, that was an assumption. Maybe third time was the charm. Maybe it was the one meant to work out. By leaning on that idea without any sound logic wasn't going to get either of us anywhere. We had to be smarter and better this time.

Only after he's done kissing me can I break back into reality.

"We are having another baby," I confirmed with a small nod of my head. "But that means that there's only more that we need to work out, Jackson." The smile after my words is there, but it's nowhere close to reaching my eyes.

His hand moved to my stomach, stretching across it and covering it completely. It was still flat, no proof of life. Right now, the only thing that even began to show a sign of change was my breasts. I hadn't noticed in sports bras at work as much as I had after a long weekend of wearing normal ones. The nausea the past two days had put me over the edge, and I'd run the test this morning.

"April, this is amazing," Jackson beamed down at me. "I think that we should move back in together. I've been looking at houses – closer to some of the preschools that we've been talking about. There are some really nice places that I think you would like."

That was exactly what I had been scared of.

I sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile across my features for a moment, not wanting to ruin the euphoria of the moment for him. But I didn't want him getting caught up in the fantasy that this was what we needed to fix everything. Things were so much more complicated than that.

"It is amazing," I agreed slowly. "But, I don't think that it's reason to rush into things, either. We still have… baggage. A lot of it. And there are things that I want to talk to you about. Things that I probably should have told you a long time ago." A heavy conversation that I'd never really wanted to have. Not with him or anyone else. I'd thought that maybe the only person with similar enough circumstances to understand was Callie, but she had moved halfway across the country. Meredith, maybe, but she wasn't the type to sit down and have a conversation with.

"What's going on, April?" Jackson asked with a frown. "This is great news. Aren't you happy about this?"

"It is. And I am," I clarified quickly. "I'm so happy. So, so happy. But there are still other things to deal with." I explained. "Why don't we sit down?" I waved my hand toward the sofa.

We sit slowly and there's a heaviness in the air that I know I'm responsible for. I really was thrilled about the idea of having another baby, even if it wasn't the ideal circumstances. We were still divorced, still living separately. Maybe we had been able to come together over some things recently, but there were still others.

"What's going on?" He repeated his previous question.

"I want to talk about after I gave birth to Harriet," I started. "You were there for me. You helped me get on my feet again. And I don't want you to feel responsible for what I'm about to tell you whatsoever," I braced.

"Sure?" Jackson muttered, confusion clear in his voice.

"What I went through giving birth… it was traumatic. And I know you know that. I had nightmares for months after and I still do sometimes. I never wanted to tell you about it. Putting some emotional distance between us at the time was really important to me and that's why I didn't really talk to you about it at the time. I've been doing some research. And I think that I have PTSD. I think that Samuel and going to the war zone left me vulnerable and after nearly dying… it just happened." There's something both terrifying and relieving about being able to say the words out loud. "I never coped in a healthy way when it happened. I ran away from you, from the grief. I didn't deal with it." I knew that I hadn't dealt with it at the same. I didn't know really if that would change the way that I felt after it, but it seemed like I was guilty of something. Even if I wasn't, it didn't stop me from feeling that way.

Self-diagnosis was something scoffed at, mental or physical illness. I knew that. At one point, I had been the one willing to scoff at it. But after burying myself in page after page, realizing that so many of the symptoms were exactly what I had been doing… I couldn't avoid it any longer.

"April…" My name leaving his mouth was soft and gentle, leaning forward and taking my hands between his larger ones. "This is something that you could have talked to me about." Jackson insisted.

"I know that I should have talked to someone about it," I admitted with my gaze dropping shamefully for a moment, staring at our connected hands. "Do you remember how I pushed for couples therapy?" Of course, he nodded. "I think that was just another way of me trying to deny what I'm going through. I think that I just need individual psychotherapy. I think that this is at the core of my issues more than losing my faith. I think it's why. And after… losing Matthew's wife, Eric, all of that on the same day and having Arizona blame me for Karin's death… it was too much. I guess I finally just snapped."

Jackson fell quiet for a moment as he processed everything that I was saying, giving my hands a gentle squeeze before he finally spoke. "I thought that maybe you were dealing with some kind of depressive episode," he admitted. "I know that you used to have problems with anxiety and that they can go head in head. I didn't think that it could be something like that."

"I didn't even consider it for a longtime," I opened up. "I was just reading the news and saw some feel good story about service dogs helping veterans with PTSD. The end of it had one of those awareness lines about you or a loved one and it got me thinking. I guess I've had a lot of realizations lately."

"Is there more than that?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," I nodded slowly. "There are… things about raising Harriet and raising this other baby that I'm never going to be able to understand or relate to. Things that you can. I mean, I've aways understood that I have privileges that you don't just because of my skin color. But I'd never really had to think about that when it came to our children." Brows furrow with this admittance, unable to meet his gaze.

I'd always recognized the atrocities of the world and the rampant racism that came. Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, so many others. But there was a distance between seeing and feeling for things on happening across the country, and inside of my own home. The rage that I had felt about that kind of thing happening, and the absolute sorrow upon experiencing it so personally… they were miles apart. I'd been so stupid. I couldn't keep being that stupid. It wasn't fair to my children. It wasn't fair to Jackson, it wasn't fair to anyone. I had to be better.

"April…" Jackson said slowly. "We are going to raise some beautiful, black children. Together. And yeah, this is an issue that it's going to be better if I talk to them about. I have experiences that I can share with them that you can't. That's not your fault. That's about the system at large. There's a lot that you can do to support them and their identity. But you can't protect them from racism. I've experienced it on a personal and institutional level. And… there's a good chance that they will, too."

A deep breath is sucked in through my nose, barely sniffling. One hand withdrew from his, hovering over my stomach protectively. It was a natural instinct to want to protect and shelter a child from the world and everything bad that they could experience. But this was something that ran deeper. His words gave some comfort, but it didn't completely erase the fear about the world that we were living in.

"I know," I nodded slowly. "I understand. It's just… all of this. It's been too much. That, not knowing where I stand with my faith, I… I've just felt so alone."

"I'm right here, April. I'm with you every step of the way." Jackson said quickly. "You, Harriet, this one. You guys are always going to be my priority." He emphasized. "You're not alone now. I promise. I'm going to be here with you every step of the way. I haven't always been and I should have done better. I'm going to do better now."

My gaze lifted back up to find his green eyes staring intensely at me and I offered up a small smile. It doesn't quite reach my eyes but it's meaningful at the same time, quite sign of appreciation. He was right – he hadn't always been there. But something about the pleading in his voice made me believe that he would do better. I needed to believe that more than anything else.

"Thank you," I murmured. "I want to be here too. I want to… be better about letting you in."

Shifting toward him, Jackson's arms naturally moved to envelop me in a warm embrace. I rest my head on the crook of his shoulder where it seemed to fit perfectly, face pressed against the skin of his neck and inhaling there. For a long moment, I just sit there and let him hold me. I take it for what it's worth. There's a spark of hope inside me, that we could do this.

"I think that I've been oversensitive in the past about pushing you away," Jackson murmured as his hand soothed along the length of my back. "But I know that you're not my father. And that I'm not him, either." For a moment, I smile despite the words. I'm glad to know that he's come to terms with who he is and knew that he was a good father. He deserved to have that kind of peace of effort. It stings a little for the comparison to make, but I suppose I deserved that. He gave up first emotionally, but I was the one who gave up and put the physical distance between us.

"Thank you," I said, breathing him in once more. "I think I'm going to set up an appointment for psychotherapy. And I saw this article about music therapy and depression and… you know, maybe I'll try that too. I don't know if I've been depressed or it's just PTSD or what but doing more probably wouldn't hurt. I just don't want to try any medication." I waved my hand over my stomach as I spoke for reference as to why. I would take a little more emotional burden if it meant giving our baby better odds for a healthy life, that wasn't even a decision as far as I was concerned. "And I'll see if I can get Arizona to squeeze me in for an ultrasound tomorrow. Maybe at the end of the day? I think… maybe now is a good time for us to be open that we're trying to fix things again. Not scream it from the rooftops open, but no longer hiding it, at least." I suggested, glancing up at him with raised eyebrows.

"That sounds like a good plan," Jackson agreed and nodded. "Are you ready for bed?"

"Yeah."

We both remove ourselves from where we'd become comfortable on the couch, making our way back to the bedroom. I change into pajamas and he stripped down to boxers, sliding underneath my covers together and snuggling up against one each other. There's no move to try and initiate any sex tonight. We'd always used sex to connect when we didn't know what else to do, but tonight, we'd finally found a real way to do so.

By the time that morning came around again, it's not the sun that wakes me up but instead the sound of Harriet crying. A little past five in the morning – not terribly early. But I don't get up. Before I have the chance, Jackson muttered something and was already out of the bedroom.

Normally I don't mind getting up myself, but I'm more exhausted than I realized and have no trouble falling back to sleep. Until nausea eventually woke me back up and got me out of bed with a haste. No doubt there that I was pregnant.

Aggressively brushing my teeth and lightly spritzing my roots with some dry shampoo before combing it out, when I finally emerge from the quiet of my bedroom, Jackson already had Harriet already dressed and nearly done with her oatmeal and milk. It reminded me of how much easier things really were when the two of us were living together, at least when it came to taking care of our daughter. But I'm still hesitant to jump right back into things again. Maybe that was something that could be discussed with a therapist.

"Good morning," I greeted the both of them with a smile, moving over to Harriet and giving her a sweet kiss.

"Good morning," Jackson echoed, kissing me on top of the head as I slid by him to grab a granola bar out of the pantry. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did," I nodded. It only took me a moment longer to unwrap the wrapping and shove a bite into my mouth. Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I begin to compose a text, mumbling through a half-full mouth to let him know what I was doing. "M'asking Arizona if she's busy today."

"You feeling okay?" He asked.

"As long as my stomach is next to empty, I feel fine." Half a smile and a slight shake of my head, placing my phone back down on the counter once the text had been sent. "I'm gonna go get changed. Are you two ready to go once she's done?"

"Mmhm. No rush, take your time."

"Dangerous words," I teased, tossing the wrapper into the trashcan and shoving the rest of the granola bar in my mouth to head back to the bedroom. Even though I normally tried to maintain at least a semblance of professionalism going to an from despite spending most of my day in scrubs, today's going to have to be a marked exception. My stomach didn't feel quite right. Leggings and a nice, long shirt that went past my rear were all I could manage.

I let Jackson drive the both of us to work and spend most of the ride on my phone, half texting Arizona and half scrolling through different therapists in the area. I didn't want someone with an MD. Maybe an MSW, but preferably someone with either a PsyD or PhD in psychology.

Fortunately, it was a big city which meant that there were plenty of hospitals. Outside of the hospital seemed like the best bet. I didn't want any more of my business than usual passing through the mouths of my coworkers. Especially when it came to personal matters like that. I wasn't used to most of them being cautious or courteous about what they were saying. Owen, usually Arizona. Bailey or Webber if you caught them in the right mood. And now that Nathan was gone, well, the list wasn't much longer than that.

Scrolling through pages of short biographies and credentials though, many of them began to sound the same. Safe, compassionate place. Greater self-knowledge and acceptance. Understanding yourself. Harmony.

All of it sounded nice in theory but I'm not sure entirely how ready I am for it. But I know there's one person I can ask.

When we get to work, I say goodbye to the both of them and let Jackson take her down to daycare. I rush to get changed into scrubs, forever grateful for the elastic waistband to hide my bloating. But I quickly make my way back to the emergency room to find that Owen was already there and busying himself with work.

"Hey, I need you for just a minute," I requested.

Owen turned toward me, nodding his head. "Sure, what's up?"

"I need to ask you for a favor. And to tell no one that I asked you about it. And, well, to not ask me about it, either." A bit of a loaded one as the words blubber past my mouth I realize, but I hoped once it was actually out that he would understand my desire for some privacy.

"Uh… sure?" The question was clear in his voice. "What's going on?"

"I need the name and the number of the therapist that you saw for PTSD."

The quick request is enough to get him to stutter and shut down from asking me more questions, fortunately. That was one thing that he could respect my privacy on and I was glad for that, no doubt because he knew just how sensitive of a subject that it could be for everyone else to deal with. He wrote down the name and number for me with a smile and well wishes, and I didn't hesitate to fold it and tuck it inside of my phone case to make sure that I wouldn't lose it before focusing quickly on work. That was about as much as I was willing to talk about it.

Work makes the day come and go with ease. Even with nausea that I'd dealt with in the morning, somehow the occasionally horrific smells of both the emergency and operating rooms doesn't bother me in the way that it should. At least I'd managed to be desensitized to that. Otherwise, every day would have been much, much more difficult.

Jackson was lingering around the E.R. waiting for me to finish ups o we could go upstairs and see the ultrasound together. At least this time, we were going to be on the same page from the beginning. That was something celebratory.

Signing off on the last of the charts and shrugging out of my lab coat to fold it over my arms, I prance up from him with a tired but relieved smile on my face.

"Hey, you ready?" I greeted.

"Yeah, let's go." Jackson's arm hooked around my frame comfortably to walk over to the elevator and take it up to meet Arizona. It was a tiny but still public display, going off of what we had agreed to earlier. My fingers find his and connect with them lightly, plopping down into one of the patient rooms and waiting for Arizona to show up. Fortunately, we didn't have to wait long.

"So, a bun in the oven?" Arizona chirped out perkily when she came in.

"According to the test, yeah," I answered with a nod. My gaze shifted to Jackson, seated next to me, letting go of his hand only to roll up my scrub top to my ribs so it was out of the way. I grabbed the gel myself and squirted it onto my stomach, abs reflexively clinching at the cool temperature. "Let's get this started."

We fell quiet for a moment and Arizona rolled over the ultrasound machine and put the receiver on my stomach. I hoped that I was enough along to be able to hear the heartbeat – it had been a few weeks since we had started to fall back into bed with each other. That was, of course… assuming it was his. I was pretty sure. Almost positive. I'd used protection with Roy, every time. I'd been somewhat safe, all things considered. It had to be his. Anything else wasn't an option. I wouldn't even know where to begin if that were the case.

Dazzling music, however, draws me away from the insecure thought.

The sound of the baby's heartbeat picked up on the monitor, beating fast. The screen was facing Arizona so I couldn't see it myself, waiting anxiously for her to say something about the appearance of the baby. Even if this early on it was a yolk sac and not much more to see, I was waiting desperately for some kind of approval. Instead, I focus on the sound of the heartbeat. It's nearly… a little fuzzy. The more I fixate, the more that I hear it.

"What's it showing?" I asked, finally breaking the quiet between us, needing information.

"Well…" Arizona started, glancing at me with a soft smile and turning the monitor so I could see it myself. "It's showing two babies. One placenta." She answered, pointing it out herself although I could already piece together the picture.

"Twins?" Jackson asked, speaking up.

"Identical twins." I clarified, blinking quickly a few times as if it was going to change the image that I was staring at. I'd anticipated that things were going to change massively, But this was more change than either of us had been prepared to deal with. The term double trouble was never something that I had considered too seriously until right now. "Wow." I breathed out, unsure what else to say for a brief moment.

"It looks like you're measuring at about eight weeks along. Baby A is a little bit bigger than baby B at the moment," Arizona pointed out which she was referring to as she spoke. "But right now, that's nothing to worry about. If you guys want to do a CVS test in a few weeks, then we'll be able to check for genetic abnormalities there. But right now the size, umbilical cord, and the placenta all look very normal." She continued.

I let out the breath that I was holding onto, leaning my head back for a moment and letting relief wash over me. Even if there was still weeks and plenty of worries to come, tests and everything else, hearing that everything looked normal for both of them was exactly what I needed. After everything that had gone on, I don't think that I was stable enough to take another loss. No, I knew I wasn't.

"Thank you for fitting us in," I smiled up at her appreciatively.

"Thank you," Jackson echoed the sentiment, clapping her on the shoulder.

"Of course," Arizona said, smiling at the both of us for a minute. "If you two need anything else, let me know. Or if you want the CVS. I'm glad that you two seem to be working at least some things out." She gave a playful wiggle of her eyebrows that I can't help but snort at, beginning to sit up to wipe the gel off of my stomach.

"Uh, actually, one more thing." Jackson cleared his throat as he spoke. I looked at him with confusion before he continued. "I don't want you to tell anyone about this. Let us do that."

I know exactly where his comment is coming from. All three of us do. I'd never forgotten the tense moment in which I'd come in right after Arizona had spilled the beans to him before I'd gotten the chance to do it myself. Even if something like this wasn't going to happen this time because he was here and in the room with me, he knew exactly how betrayed I had been by it. Everyone had. I'd been raging throughout the hospital, storming about. It was his way of standing up for me, making sure that I didn't have to initiate that kind of awkward conversation. It's still just a little bit awkward judging from the wild look on the blonde's face, though.

"Of course." Arizona's answer came after a tense moment, nodding her head quickly. "Of course, it's just between the three of us. My lips are sealed. I'm not going to tell anyone a word about it. Let's just get you these pictures printed off…"

"Thank you," I chimed in before it could get any more awkward or either of us could stumble our way into saying something a little more regrettable. "I uh, I think that it's time for the two of us to get out of here, yeah? Harriet must be waiting for us."

"Have a good night, you two." She offered the both of us while handing me the printed photo, leaving us be.

Turning toward Jackson, I take his hand as I hop off of the patient table, smoothing my shirt back out. "Yeah, let's go have a good night," I repeated the sentiment, giving him a playful little bump with my hip. I hand him the photo for a moment, letting him eye the two little blobs that would eventually be our babies.

"I always do with you."


	13. Chapter 13

**_ APRIL _ **

It's a woman named Connie that I finally agree to meet.

Owen's actual therapist had been booked and apparently was geared specifically for veterans. Though I'd done the short stint in Jordan with him and then with Riggs, I knew that wasn't the source of my issues. It ran deeper than that. SO he had given me a recommendation to a woman that he had apparently known for years. It sounded promising.

She insisted that I actually call her Connie instead of Dr. Cartwright, which I didn't mind. It made her seem a little more like a friend instead of some stranger to pour my soul out on, which was probably the intention. Jackson had offered to take me there, sit in the car and wait, but I'd rejected it. I needed to do this on my own. Instead, I'd asked him to take Harriet for the night, unsure of how I was going to feel afterward. I'd made a remark that I might come over afterward if I was feeling up to it, but the odds of that happening seemed slim.

The couch in her office is comfortable, no doubt as expensive as the rest of it appeared to be. A large window with lots of natural light streaming in, plants bringing in a little more comfort to the room. A candle was burning on her desk, lavender and… something I couldn't quite name.

"Thank you for coming in today, April," Connie said with a polite smile.

"Thank you for scheduling me." I returned the sentiment, unsure how to go forward.

There's a silence for a moment when I don't immediately open up, the two of us both staring at each other. Connie was older than I was, probably in her early fifties. There's some comfort in that, meaning that she'd probably had about twenty or so years of experience in doing this. A wedding ring on her left hand, a tattoo of something in Latin covered by the bracelets of her wrist. I wonder for a brief moment if she's staring at me in the same way that I am her. Probably. It was her job to get inside my head at least a little bit. Might as well start on the outside. At least I'd dressed nicely today.

"So, what made you seek out coming to see me today?" She finally asked.

"I, uh… I've been going through a bit of a rough patch lately." An understatement. "I kind of had this crisis of faith. A big one. And I think that I'm past it now but going through that made me realize that I still have a… a lot of things that I haven't handled in a good way." I pulled at my fingers nervously, the pops of my knuckles seeming that much louder in a quiet room.

Connie gave an understanding nod of her head. "I want to start with you by clearing up a misconception for you. Therapy is not supposed to be easy. Starting it is hard. But I want you to be able to walk away from these sessions feeling cathartic." She leaned forward, crossing her legs. "But I'm here objectively for you. I'm here to tell you what you need to hear and not always what you want to here. But most importantly, I'm here to listen. I want to help you unfold all of the things beneath your fear and reactivity, to find that long-term growth and change. It's what you desire from yourself, and not anyone else."

I didn't really want to hear that it wasn't going to be easy. I knew it, but it's still hard to hear. After everything, I felt like that I should have had one thing going for me.

But maybe… maybe that was a little privileged of me.

"April, how do you normally feel on a typical day of your life? Sad, frustrated, afraid, trapped…?" She asked.

"I, uh…" I paused for a moment as I processed her question. "Frustrated. Confused. Grateful, for the good things that I do have. For my daughter, more than anything else. But I still feel like there are a lot of things in my life I can't explain or answer. I don't always know what I am."

"That's okay," Connie clarified. "But being able to name these things that you're feeling is a good step toward being able to press and find the core of these feelings. You mentioned over the phone that you believed you might be suffering from PTSD?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Tell me a little bit more about that."

I pause, taking a deep breath before I can begin. "Well, PTSD is triggered by a terrifying event, right? I… my daughter, Harriet, she's about sixteen months old now. And she's beautiful. I love her more than anything else on the earth. But I almost died giving birth to her. I had a c-section on my co-worker's kitchen table without any anesthesia. I stayed awake during it just long enough to be able to hear her cry and know that she was okay." I speak clearly, taking a deep breath once I'm done.

"It sounds like you've been through a great ordeal, April. And that you've done your research on the subject already. Post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms may start within one month of a traumatic event, but sometimes symptoms may not appear until years after the event." Connie said. "It seems like there's something more on your mind," she continued.

"There is," I admitted quietly. "Before, Harriet… I had a son. He was sick and he died in my arms minutes after he was born. Osteogenesis imperfecta, type 2. His bones were breaking inside of me and… it almost killed me."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Connie murmured. "Something like that is next to impossible to deal with. But not impossible. Eventually, with some work, compassion, and patience, there's generally some relief. The death of a child of any age is a profound, difficult, and painful experience. It's one of the most enduring pieces of stress that you can go through. Making sense and new meanings of such a wrenching event is difficult." She paused for a moment to let me process the words. "What do you think about what you've been through?"

"It's… it's not fair." The words leave my mouth simply and I force a pained smile on my expression for a moment, trying to slow the impending tears. "He was just a baby. He didn't deserve it. He never had a chance."

Connie moved the box of tissues on her desk to the table between us. I don't reach for them just yet.

"I have believed so intensely in God for my entire life. My existence revolved around him. And… when my son died, it felt like the entire world had collapsed around me. I never dealt with it. And I guess I kind of set myself up for failure by not dealing with it when I should have."

"You're allowed to be resentful. You just need to forgive yourself for feeling it," Connie said gently. "Do you think that you and God are on the same page now?"

I paused for a moment, chewing on my lower lip before giving a slight nod of my head. "Yeah. I… I get that I'm not allowed to have all the answers, not in this lifetime. The world might suck, but God is good. God lost a son too. I have to trust him to take care of mine. That resentment is gone now. I'm working on coming to peace with all of it and that I just need to… live and love while I can. While I have the chance because it's not always going to be there."

Nearly dying after giving birth to Harriet, of course, had been a harrowing reminder of that. Life was precious. Fragile. I was. Just as Samuel had been.

"It sounds like you've come to a mature conclusion," Connie commented. "But I have to admit, you haven't said anything yet that would make me come to the same conclusion as you about PTSD."

"I've had.. a lot of nightmares. About Harriet's birth, mostly. dying. Her dying. For months after she was born," I glance away for a moment, out the window bringing light to the room. "Avoidance problems. I've always run away the problem. Halfway around the world or just... doing things that aren't like me. I… I waited twenty-nine years to lose my virginity. And then, I just… slept with a guy who was pretty much a stranger. I drank. And drank, and drank, and I just… wasn't myself. Drinking was the only way that I could not think about it." Looking down at my hands, I chewed on my lower lip. I'm not proud. "Everything felt hopeless. Meaningless. There wasn't anything good. I felt like a failure. I couldn't save patients, couldn't save myself."

Paul Stadler. Eric Sterling. Karin Taylor.

Their voices and faces flash before my eyes. I see them as clearly as I could see anyone else. The contusions, the blood, the yellow of liver failure. As much progress as I felt like I had made, they still hadn't left me. Maybe they never would.

"Was there a specific event that brought all of this on?" Connie questioned me, nearly reading my mind.

"Yes," I respond shortly, pausing for a moment to gather myself. I lean forward and grab a tissue but don't use it, instead, folding it into quarters. "I had… one of those days that makes you question everything. I lost this guy in a car crash that easily should have lived. Then… this kid, this poor kid, shot by the police for climbing into his own window. For being black." I sniffled. "That could have been my kid. It… it still could be." I haven't told her about the pregnancy, but it's as much of a reference to Harriet, too. "Then I lost my ex-fiance's wife. She had a baby and she just died. They were both so excited to be parents and start that chapter of their life and it was just ruined. Completely ruined." Just like Jackson and I had been.

This time the tissue does get raised up to my face, dabbing the skin beneath my eyes and trying to rid some of the tears that had managed to spill past them. "Sorry," I breathed out habitually, apologizing for the tears on my face.

"You don't need to apologize for crying, April. It's healthy to let all of this out. You should feel comfortable talking about all of this." She said.

For a few moments, I sit there and let the rest of the tears pour out of my body in a release, not stopping the shedding. They come and they come until there was nothing left inside of me to release, leaving my eyes red and puffy, stains of liquid running down freckled cheeks. Crying in such a way was exhausting yet by the time that I had let all of it out of my system, I do feel just a little bit better about all of it. There really was something healthy about not holding all of it inside of me.

"Thank you." I'm not quite sure what exactly I'm thanking her for – doing her job, perhaps, giving me space and time to both speak and cry without feeling completely embarrassed about all of it. It's not something that I get a lot. Even if I liked being able to talk to Jackson again, that we had rebuilt that bond between the two of us, there's still something a little more shameful about letting loose like this in front of him. It's harder, maybe, knowing that he had been through some of the same things yet he hadn't reacted in the same way that I had. He was still… mentally healthy, as far as I could tell. Nothing indicated otherwise.

"This is what I'm here for," Connie reminded me gently. "How are you feeling right now?"

"A little… drained." I said, letting out a heavy breath. "But now devastating sad. I don't know. Maybe a little relieved to have all of it out and in the open." It's hard to place a finger exactly what was going on inside of my heart. But it's not entirely negative. It's a mixture of good and bad, light and dark.

"That seems like it's a step in the right direction," she offered and gave me a small smile, reaching forward to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze. I returned the smile. "There's something that I would like you to do for me, between now and our next meeting."

"Sure," I nodded quickly. "Anything."

"I'd like you to begin keeping a journal. It's for your own benefit, not something that you need to discuss with me if you don't want to. But just somewhere to write down your feelings and be able to voice them. A place to get it out of your head." Connie explained. "And as you begin to write down this, I want you to ask yourself a question. What changes do I want to see in my future?"

I blink at her for a few minutes, processing the words. It'd been years since I'd kept a journal. I'm sure that I still had that little red notebook hidden somewhere in a box, along with some of the other diaries and journals that I had written in throughout my life. I'd enjoyed writing in them, too. It'd always felt good. But after Lexie had found it and mocked me for everything that I had written in it, having that kind of vulnerability didn't feel right. Especially with the people that I had lived with. But now, I didn't have to worry about anyone snooping through my stuff. Harriet was the only one and, well, she couldn't read. Not a worry.

"Okay…" I said slowly, brows forming a slight furrow and getting myself to look back at her. There are a few questions in my face that I'm not entirely sure how to ask, but it seemed like she picked up on the hint.

"Going forward isn't easy. I know that you're a doctor, but I'm not sure how familiar you are with all of the models that come with psychology. There's a specific one for dealing with grief, four steps. Accept the reality of the loss, work through the pain of grief, adjusting to life without the deceased, and maintain a connection to the deceased while moving on with life." Connie explained. "It seems like you've done a very good job for the first two, and you're actively working on the second two still. That's good. I'd like you to focus on the last. How can you keep living your life every day, with that loss as a part of you?"

"I always thought that therapists were supposed to answer your questions, not give you more," I remarked, trying to remain good-humored about the situation, even if I'm not entirely sure how to respond to that. It's validation, I think.

"I like to do a little bit of both," Connie smiled at me. She turned away from me for a moment, grabbing what appeared to be a planner off of her desk and opening it up, pen in hand. "Will this time work for you again next week, April?" She asked.

I gave a nod of my head. "Yeah, it should work." I smiled a little more genuinely this time. "Thank you, again."

We both stand up for a moment after she penciled me into her schedule and I shake her hand firmly as we exchange our goodbyes. Walking out to my car, I do feel somewhat cathartic. Drained at the same time, but at least there's some kind of pep in my step, some kind of solid next step about how to handle everything I'm dealing with. I'd always bottled it up, ran away from the problem. Writing it down would be at least one concrete step to trying to break that habit. A way of getting the words outside of my head.

There's still a bit of daylight left. I did want to go over to Jackson's and see Harriet for myself, but I needed a little step between here and there. 

Instead of heading directly over there, I head over to a little corner boutique called Endless Knot. It's vibrant and feminine, lots of dresses, but the tables of decorative accessories were my focus for the moment. No point in buying something too cute if it wasn't going to be flattering by the time it was warm enough to wear it. Shifting through the different offerings they have, I settle on a small, purple one and a few new pens to go along with it. I might as well make it something that I enjoy.

Once I've settled on that and a new candle, I decided to go to Jackson's. I'm tired – I'd forgotten just how draining pregnancy could be and wondered if two babies were going to mean twice the exhaustion. Fortunately, it's not a particularly long drive before I'm pulling up and parking on the curb outside of his house.

Tucking the bag underneath the seat of my car, I grab my purse and head right up to the door, knocking loudly. Only a few moments pass before it's opened and Jackson and Harriet both greet me.

"Hey, I wasn't sure if you were coming or not," Jackson smiled at me.

"Well, how could I ever resist getting to see my little nugget?" I cooed, reaching for Harriet. He passed her off to me as I stepped inside of her house, kissing her forehead and snuggling her up against my side comfortably. "Hi, boo bear." I murmur to her. "Have you guys eaten?"

"Just finished dinner," he nodded. "There's some spaghetti left if you want it. I was about to give her a bath. Be warned, the kitchen is a little bit of a mess."

Expectations live up to reality as we make way toward his kitchen. Harriet's tray table was predictably covered in noodles and sauce, as well as plenty that had made their way onto the floor and countertops. I couldn't help but laugh at the mess that she made – it's always a little more amusing when it's not actually at your own house.

"Go get her cleaned up. I'm gonna eat. The babies are starving." I beamed at him with a smile and handed Harriet back over to her father, letting the two of them disappear. I don't give myself that big of a serving, not sure how my stomach's going to take a big meal. Smaller ones were always safer, even if I was hungry.

It doesn't take me long to scarf it down and begin cleaning up the kitchen. I start with the plates and pots that he had used to cook before anything else, then go to getting her tray table wiped down. Spaghetti was definitely one of the messier meals for her when it came to tomato sauce. I'd learned that lesson already. She was already beginning to develop quite the throwing arm.

It's only when I'm on my hands and knees to wipe up the sauce on the floor that Jackson finally reappeared. "Hey– I was gonna get that, you don't need to do that." He said quickly.

"Not a big deal," I shrugged, sitting up a little and back on my heels. "Besides, I'm all done now."

Jackson offered me his hand and I get back to my feet, tossing the paper towels into the trashcan. I glance around the kitchen in a quick assessment, things pretty much back in order from where the had been before.

"Thank you," he bent down, kissing my lips. "How was therapy?"

"It was good, actually. Productive… I think." I answered honestly. "I talked a lot, about everything. It kind of helped me figure out where I stand with everything that's happened in the past few months and years, honestly. She didn't say that I was crazy or going off the deep end, either, so I'm pretty sure that's a good sign." I gave him a smile. I don't feel the need to tell him about the crying just yet. Maybe later.

"I'm glad," Jackson murmured as he tucked some hair behind my ear. "Do you want to watch a movie? I noticed that Freeform was playing another one of those Harry Potter marathons."

"Really?" I couldn't help but squeal with excitement. He knew how much I loved Harry Potter, how I'd always felt related to Hermione growing up. The nerdy genius, saving the day, even if she didn't have the same conventional beauty as everyone else around her. That was something that I had absolutely fawned over when I'd been going to college. "Yes!"

We cuddle up on the couch underneath one of the blankets and get through the Half-Blood Prince movie. I don't miss the fact that Jackson keeps his hand on my stomach early the entire time. Nine weeks along with twins, I wasn't exactly showing, but there was beginning to be a small little bump. Studies said women tended to show more when it came to subsequent pregnancies and I figured that having twins this round was only going to make me show sooner rather than later. I'd never felt bad about my body while pregnant, for the most part. I just had to hope and pray that the scar from Harriet's c-section wouldn't be a problem down the road.

By the time that it's over, as much as I love the movie, I'm barely managing to keep my eyes awake. The exhaustion really was too much. A loud yawn opened my mouth as the credits rolled and Jackson flipped off the television, scooping me up in both of his arms and carrying me to his bedroom.

"My therapist wants me to start journaling," I confessed as I started out in my bed, letting him pull off my jeans. "Writing down my thoughts and feelings. Just like I used to."

"That sounds like a good thing," Jackson commented as he stripped down to his boxers before helping me out of the rest of my clothes, leaving me just in polka dot panties. "Are you good with that?" He asked.

"Yeah, I think so." I nodded.

His hand rubbed over my bump smoothly and I shut my eyes, enjoying the simple feeling of his hand across my bare skin. But his touch doesn't stay innocent for long, eventually sliding up and cupping my right breast in his hand. His thumb rubbed across my nipple and it hardened instantly, giving it a little tug. I shuddered. My breasts were sensitive now, more than they had ever been. But he keeps going, his other hand eventually finding the left counterpart, just rubbing and occasionally tugging at the buds.

It doesn't take long for it to give me a whole new appreciation for the changes that pregnancy was having on my body. I moan and mewl, unable to help myself, dripping wet. I pressed my thighs together, trying to find some kind of friction and relief for all that he was doing to me.

Jackson pushed his knee between my legs, spreading them open. Eventually, a hand leaves my breasts and drifted to my thighs, moaning obscenely when his hand finally made contact with my core. I ground down against him, reaching and closing my hand around his hard cock now straining against the soft fabric of his boxers. He groaned and pushed my panties to the side, two fingers sliding through slick folds, teasing, just before pushing into me, pumping slowly.

Slow only lasted for a brief moment, though. "Oh– Jackson, please…" I begged. His other hand pinched my nipple a little harder, the pain exquisite alongside the pleasure of his fingers thrusting. "I'm gonna…" Words only encouraged him further, fucking me deep and hard with his fingers, not stopping until I came in a sudden burst of pleasure.

It takes me a few long moments to recover from the intensity of the orgasm. The past week I hadn't been in the particular mood for sex with all of the other symptoms. But knowing my breasts were that sensitive changed my mind a bit, even if the exhaustion was still there.

"Let me return the favor, baby," I murmured softly.

Jackson doesn't hesitate with the offer, moving so I don't have to, cock near my mouth. I ran my hand down the length of his shaft, stroking him slowly from top to bottom, twisting my wrist at the last second, dragging your fingers through the soft hairs at the base. He groaned softly, already hard and aching, precum just leaking from his tip.

Tracing my along the thick vein on the underside of his cock several times before rubbing a small circle just beneath the head, I listened to the sounds that he began to make. Then I wrapped my fingers around the base of Jackson's cock, holding him tightly. My tongue darted out and licked him from the root to the top, swirling quickly around the tip and across the slit.

I mouthed and licked him from top to bottom, caressing him with my lips. His hand sliding into my hair and around the back of my neck, urging me forward. I wrapped your lips around him and slid him into your mouth, relaxing my throat as I took him in deeper. I've done this before and I know exactly what he likes, all that it took to get him over the edge. It's only a few moments before the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat.

He made a strangled sound, victorious for me. Grasping the base of his cock, tight, and dragged my lips up his length, pre-come flooding my taste buds. Jackson's hand fisted in my hair, pulling it as I bobbed my head up and down, deep-throating him. I did everything that I knew worked for him, intentionally swallowing so he could feel the constriction of my throat and the tightness that came with it.

As was usual for him, Jackson lasted longer than I thought possible. But he's clear still. "Fuck, April, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna–" A grunted moan cut him off and I don't pull away, instead, letting him finish inside of my mouth.

When we're both completely worn and spent, we curl up against each other, bare skin warming one another underneath the covers of his bed. He was pressed right up against my back, hand placed on my stomach, as if to protect both me and the unborn babies inside.

"I love you, April," Jackson whispered, kissing the shell of my ear.

"I know, baby. I love you too."


	14. Chapter 14

_**JACKSON** _

I watch her every day and I can see the substantial progress that she's making.

Even so, I can't help but worry about her.

Before everything had happened between us, April had always been my friend and my person. She was the one who had been there for me time and time again. There was the exception with Samuel, but… that was a completely different story, an anomaly from the norm. Not quite the desertion that I had accused it of being at the time, or at least, not in the same way that I had thought of it back then. She was one of the best people in my life, I knew that. I also knew she didn't have enough people looking out for her. Someone needed to be there for her, to remind her that she wasn't constantly on her own.

But I didn't want to hover too obsessively, either. It was a hard line to walk. I wanted her to know that I supported her every step of the way but didn't want her to think that my watching and hovering was coming from a place of doubt. I did trust her. I just wanted to help, too.

Keeping a close eye on her meant watching the changes that her body was going through, too. The morning sickness came and went after a couple of weeks. Her breasts had grown quickly as well, something that I had taken full advantage of, admittedly. I knew that she didn't feel great on a physical basis about all of the changes in her body, but I was trying to give her a few benefits wherever she could get them. That just happened to be an easy one.

It eventually came to the point where hiding the pregnancy was no longer feasible, both from the standpoint of the growing bump with our babies, and the nature of our work. It's difficult for a trauma surgeon to try and avoid all of the x-rays in the E.R. and do so in a subtle manner. There wasn't much that I could do to help her there.

April got to come out with it on her own terms, though, which I could tell made her happy. Hunt was the first person besides Arizona to officially find out, and after that, world traveled around pretty fast. A few people claimed that they had already pieced it together on their own terms from the way that we had both been acting, but she didn't seem to mind much. She just seemed happy that no one else had directly stated it for her. No one doubted why that was.

The news being out in the open is good, as far as I'm concerned. It means I can touch and hover around her without having to worry about other people were thinking. We were joint at the hip lately, and people knew exactly why.

Except we still weren't together. Not officially, at least.

I hadn't brought up the idea of moving in together since she'd told me that she was pregnant and gone on a lecture about how we still needed to take things slow and not take leaps and bounds in the direction of a relationship. I respected and understood that. She still needed time. But my mind was made up. This time things were going to work. We'd figure it out and settle down, we'd raise our kids together. There'd be no awkward co-parenting. It'd be the two of us, together again. The way that it should have been from the start.

She really was glowing now, though. It seemed like therapy was treating her well. I'd asked teasingly once or twice if she'd let me peek inside of her journal, and she'd shot that down quickly, not that I was surprised in the slightest. April had been more open than ever with me, but everyone had things they weren't ready to open up about.

I was a little curious where all of this was going, though. If it was helping her get ready to settle down with me, or steering her in the opposite direction. I could deal with the latter if it meant seeing her happy again, seeing her smile. I knew we'd always be connected, one way or another. Harriet and the twins would make sure of that.

"Hey, are you ready to go to the store?" I announced my presence, walking into her house. We'd exchanged keys after the end of the first trimester mark, a little celebratory thing for both the pregnancy and keeping each other closer.

Harriet had been dropped off with her grandparents for the afternoon. We'd made plans to hit up a few baby stores and start preparing for a nursery, even if we had postponed the moving in together discussion. I knew that today was going to be a good day for bringing it up again, based off of feasibility. We'd already have to buy two of almost everything with two babies in the picture. Now it was a question of whether or not two was going to become four.

"Yeah, I think so." April's voice was the first thing I heard, but she appeared from the hallway moments later, running her fingers through her hair and smoothing it over her shoulders. I'm surprised to see it down. Lately, she'd been complaining about being hot all the time, almost always throwing her hair up.

"Why don't I drive?" I suggested gently, throwing in a compliment for good measure. "You look nice."

She smoothed her hair over the maternity dress that she was wearing, giving a little squirm for a moment to adjust the length that it fell. It was perfectly modest. "Thanks," she smiled at me after a moment, grabbing her purse off of the counter. "Alright, let's go."

It's not a long drive over to the mall. but I don't want to leave the conversation that I had stuck in my mind for the middle of the store. It was better to at least try and get it out of the way while it was just the two of us. A little less tension when we weren't under public eye or expectations, not that I thought this conversation was going to turn sour. Just in case.

"Hey, so, I've been thinking about the stuff for the nursery…" I glance over at her as I began speaking. "We're already going to have to go double duty on a lot of it, since twins. I know we haven't talked about it lately, but, I'd like you to reconsider moving in together. The market is in a pretty good place right now, we could go ahead and get in the neighborhood for Harriet's preschool. Get a four bedroom, that way they can both have a room of their own in a couple of years when they've grown up some." I throw out every viable explanation for us to move in together, trying to leave emotion out of the equation for the moment, even if that was the very thing that spurred the conversation as far as I was concerned.

April hummed audibly for a moment before falling quiet, thinking about my words. I watch her from the corner of my eye, spotting her rubbing her stomach. It distracted me for only a brief moment, wondering if the babies were kicking.

"It's not a bad idea," she finally spoke up, and I let out the breath that I had been holding onto. "Things have been good between us and if there are two babies then it's going to be a lot easier to have two adults around full time." She had taken the same stance as I had, and I don't blame her for that: reason, logic, facts. Even if I had been hoping to hear something a little more from her. "I have one thought, though." She added after a moment.

"Yeah?" I give another glance at her before refocusing on the road. "What's that?"

"Would you go to therapy with me once time? I know that it's a lot to ask but… I just want you to see where I am on all pages and I really like Connie. I think it might be easier with her there, to kind of… break down the wall, I guess." April started. "Just one time."

I'm surprised for a brief moment. I thought that wall between us was already down but I guess I should have realized there was always more going on with her. It wasn't exactly couples counseling, it was interpersonal – it was about her, not me. But she was healing, she was making progress. And I had told her that I was going to be with her every step of the way. That included this.

"Sure thing," I agreed with a nod of her head, reaching over for her hand. "Tell me when and where."

"Is this week okay?" She suggested. "I mean, we probably need to get started on the house sooner rather than later and… might as well knock it out of the way."

"That's fine with me." I agreed, smiling softly. I turned into the parking lot, pulling up out front of the store and pausing for a moment. "Here, go ahead and get out. I'll go park the car and meet you inside." I suggested, not wanting to make her walk much more than necessary. April stared at me with a funny expression for a moment before conceding, getting out of the car and walking in. It's a crowded parking lot and I don't get the best space, but it doesn't take me long to catch up with her inside of the store.

When I do find her in the middle of an aisle filled with gender-neutral onesies galore, she's already pushing around a cart with a variety of items. Diapers that we would never have enough of, butt cream, two waterproof mattress covers… she really hadn't hesitated to go for the basics.

"Hey," I greet her, placing my hands on her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. "And here I thought you'd insist on recycling all of Harriet's," I teased.

"Oh, we're definitely recycling some of Harriet's," she glanced back at me with a grin. "But then we had one and now we're having two, so we'll need more. Keep rubbing my shoulders, though, that feels good."

I'm happy to comply with her request, letting my thumbs dig into her shoulders little more and trying to prove her some relief. She'd begun complaining about her back a little more as she grew in size around the waist, and I knew that back pain was a common complaint for women with bigger chests. I'm sure that she wasn't used to having quite as much weight up here, either.

"Are you going to have a baby shower? I know that you didn't with Harriet, but I thought maybe this time…" I suggested gently.

"Arizona and some of the nurses offered to throw me one. I didn't say no, so I'm pretty sure that there's going to be a surprise shower at some point or another." April responded, barely shrugging her shoulders in my hand. That was good. I knew it was more of a girl thing, and I'd wondered if she'd been upset not to have one with Harriet. But at least this pregnancy, she had her best friend on her side again. That was good for everyone involved.

"Well, onesies are a pretty big gift item for baby showers. Maybe we should look at some bigger items, yeah? Strollers for twins, you know. Another car seat."

I eased her along gently so we could look at some of the strollers. She'd been picky about getting one for Harriet so I expected the same kind of attitude for these babies, but it was going to be a little more challenging given that there were more limited options when it came to strollers for twins. I let her poke and prod away at the varieties offered, chiming in with both my opinion and the reminder to not worry about the price tags on some of the items. It didn't surprise me that two babies really did cost more in every possible way.

Eventually, April settled down on the Contours Options Elite Tandem Stroller at the last minute. I'd thought that we wouldn't be able to pick one out today, but she liked the fact that it had some different seating options and that it snapped in infant car seats. It was a little heavy in my opinion, but she assured me that it'd be nothing once her bump was out of the way.

"Jackson?" April's voice drew me out of thoughts in the middle of swiping my credit card, and I expected some comment about the total being well in the hundreds. It's not a big deal to me – especially given it's about our kids. "Baby, I'm starving. I really, really, really need some mozzarella sticks."

I blink at her in surprise for a moment. "Mozzarella sticks?" I questioned. "I thought you weren't eating much fried food these days."

Wrong comment.

"I can eat whatever I want!" She quipped back at me quickly. Number one indicator I'm in trouble.

"I know, I know," I backtracked quickly. "I'm just making sure that's what you really want. Promise. You can have as many mozzarella sticks as you want. Why don't we swing by Sonic on the way home, yeah? You can get one of those diet cherry limeades that you love." I suggest quickly, admittedly trying to suck up.

"Diet?" April echoed my words. "Why diet? Do you think I'm fat?"

"No, no." Oh, please don't let this spiral. "You always get diet, baby. That's the one that you like."

She paused for a moment, then I finally feel like I can breathe again. "Yeah, you're right."

There's officially no question that the hormones of the pregnancy were starting to affect her in more than a few ways. I bend down and give her a sweet kiss on the lips, maneuvering the box with the stroller into the cart and then fitting the other sacks of supplies in it. Moving with the cart slowly makes it a slow walk out to the car, but it doesn't take me long to play Tetris with the items in the backseat and try to get it all organized.

"Are you sure all you want is mozzarella sticks? Do you want marinara sauce? Ranch?" I questioned her by the time we get to the drive-thru.

"Oh, ranch. Extra ranch, actually." April answered, rubbing her stomach. "Come feel."

I reach over with her request, stretching my fingers across her stomach to feel the movement resting beneath her skin. I can feel the babies kicking and moving around inside of her and I can't help but beam at her for a moment. It's amazing. I'd felt it with Harriet a few times, but this time, she's much more comfortable with touch in the first place. I love being able to feel it. Mostly, I love the knowledge that the baby in there is safe. We were still waiting on the amnio results technically, but that feeling was the answer that I really needed.

Her mood goes up considerably by the time that she gets to scarf down her mozzarella sticks and swallow it without a mouthful of cherry limeade. There's something, well, amusing about it. Most guys probably would have been irritated by the back and forth and food cravings, but it hadn't gotten under my skin just yet.

I drop her back off at her house and let her take some of the smaller items in with her, knowing that she was going to be a little anal about washing and folding them. Probably more than once between now and when the babies came in a few months, but hopefully she wouldn't get too deep into nesting before we moved. The rest I could keep with me. I'd happily take on the bulk of things when it came to moving – it's why the first thing that I did when I got home from picking Harriet up was call up my realtor and give her a timetable.

But I do go along with what she wants without complaint.

We drive over to Connie's office on a rainy Thursday evening. By then, we had the results of the amnio. Arizona knew the gender of the babies and we still didn't. What we did know was they were healthy. No signs of genetic abnormalities and everything on the ultrasound checked out normal.

Of course, April had been right. Arizona was planning a surprise baby shower for her next week, but I'd been instructed to not tell her and just make sure that she got there close to on time. It'd no doubt be a team effort between Hunt and me to make sure that she didn't get pulled into surgery, and that she didn't get offended by keeping her out of it just long enough to get her there. One of those things was going to be harder than the other.

I notice right off the bat that April does seem extremely comfortable with her therapist. Connie seemed plenty nice, thoughtful. I listen to the two of them for awhile, trying to get on the same page as the two of them. I knew April had been journalling excessively, and I knew that she'd picked up in attitude. I didn't know too much beyond that, though.

"Jackson, if you don't mind, I'd like to hear a little bit from you." The words draw me out of my thoughts, blinking a few times and looking at the older woman.

I nodded. "Sure, uh, what about, exactly?" I questioned. Connie looked at April.

"Well… we've talked a lot about Samuel. I know that before I started coming here, I never really got past him." April said, looking at me with a deep frown on her mouth. I can see her grab at her stomach, the way that she normally did whenever she thought about him. "I thought that… maybe it'd be good to talk about that?" She suggested with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Oh." That hadn't been expected. "I, uh… I don't know. I think that I did heal, more or less, when you were in Jordan. It… sucked. Every day of it sucked. I spent a lot of time with my mom." I glance down at my hands, running my palms down the length of my thighs. "I miss him, and, yeah… it's not fair. Life isn't fair though, I get that." Even if I did feel like I was past it, it's still something that I'm not sure exactly how to talk about. I didn't think that a person could ever completely get past the loss of a child. They just learned how to adapt, survive, and move on. I'd done that. I'd channeled my anger into April initially with her being gone, but now that was gone, too. Maybe it hadn't been perfect, but it had gotten me through the end. Even if I had hurt her along the way.

"Is there anything else? You're looking awfully introspective, Jackson." Connie commented.

"I…" A frown pulling at my corners, I rub the back of my head. "I was just angry for a long time. Filled with rage. I… I didn't really take down the nursery, you know? I tore it apart. Literally. I had to go into the E.R. and get Warren to stitch up my arm." I turn my arm out toward April, twisting it so she could see the faint scar that was there. "But I guess once I got all of it out… it was okay. Or as okay as it could be." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to brush it off.

"You never told me that," April said softly, reaching out for my arm and running a finger down the length of the scar. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, looking up at me.

"Because we never talked about taking down the nursery. You were mad… rightfully so, I should have talked to you about it. But I was alone and I just spiraled, I guess. But it was what I needed to do. Like you needed to go to Jordan." The comparison seemed to be the thing that made it click logically in her head. We had both healed separately. At the time, at the divorce, I had hated it. A part of me still wished that we had been able to do it together, that maybe things wouldn't have turned out the same way that they were now. But we had Harriet, and now the twins. Things hadn't turned out too bad. We both loved our kids more than anything else in the world.

"It's good that you're opening up about it now," Connie chimed in. "From my understanding, this is really the root of how the divorce between the two of you started, correct?" She prompted.

We both glanced at each other for a short moment before nodding. I can't help but let out a sigh. I'd triggered it into motion, even if it had ultimately been a decision between the two of us. I couldn't bear much more of the guilt than what she could. We had played equal parts here and there.

"How do you feel about the divorce now?" She asked, looking between the both of us.

Each of us falls quiet for a moment, waiting for the other start speaking. The ice is there, waiting to be broken. I knew what I wanted to say, even if I wasn't entirely sure that she was ready to hear it. But now seemed like a better time than waiting for the natural opportunity. That might never come.

"Honestly, it feels like… a necessary evil," I started. "I love you, April. I love you and our children, I love everything that we have together. And I know that we made mistakes. I know that I made mistakes, that I jumped to conclusions and I strung you on a few times. I should have never done that and you certainly didn't deserve that. But I'm ready to move forward. I'm ready to have a better chance. I think that… you know, we wouldn't be where we are if it hadn't happened. I don't mean that in the obvious context but, I don't think we'd be on as good of terms now without it. We would have just kept making the same mistakes and hurting each other again and again. I'm not happy that it happened, not necessarily. I wanted to be married to you. But I think it was better for the both of us that it did happen."

It was admittedly a speech that I had prepared for awhile now, thinking it over time and time again. I knew that I loved her, and I didn't know fully if I regretted everything that had happened. Some things, certainly. I shouldn't have strung her along during the divorce, told her that I wanted her and then turned around on her weeks later. But this time was different. I knew that it was different, and I wanted her to know that too.

April took a deep breath and offered me a tearful smile, reaching for the tissue box and dabbing the skin beneath her eyes gently for some of the tears that slipped out. I could only hope that it was a good thing, waiting for her to speak up as well.

"I guess that necessary evil is the right way to put it," she finally agreed with a nod of her head. "I want to be with you and I want to have our family together. That's why I agreed to move in. But I have to admit that I'm scared of going through the ringer again. That something bad is going to happen and we're not going to be able to handle it like we should. I want it to work so badly, though, I do. I just don't know how to get rid of this fear inside me." She elaborated.

I nodded in understanding. It was reasonable, after everything. I couldn't blame her for that, even if I'm not entirely sure what to say on the matter. I'd offered reassurance, I'd been there for the past few months. I wanted it to be enough. Maybe it was just one of those things where she needed more time to really see it because I didn't want something bad to happen to have to prove it.

"Recognizing the fear that you're feeling and that you both want to make it work is a big deal." Connie chimed in before I could completely gather my thoughts. "Now, divorce isn't my specialty, as you both know. But I have coworkers on the matter, and they've all told me the same thing. They can tell if a couple is going to make it work pretty much right off the bat, based on how much effort they're willing to put into the relationship. And it seems like you two are passionate enough about each other to make it work."

The words are something that we both end up leaving her office thinking about. I'd been thinking it for weeks, really, that this time we had what it took to cut it out. Having an outside who knew April so well confirm it was a good feeling.

I drive her home, holding her hand with mine the entire way. She made idle chatter about the baby and nurseries, talking on and off about whether or not crib sharing would be beneficial for the babies at the beginning. I let her go on and on. She's happiest when it came to talking about the kids, I loved seeing her happy.

"April?" I grab her attention when we finally pull up to her house, and I put the car in park. "Would you like to go and look at some houses this weekend?" I brace the subject as gentle as I can while being direct, turning to look at her.

She smiled at me. "Yeah. Yeah, I would."


	15. Chapter 15

**_ JACKSON _ **

We sign for a house when April's seven months pregnant, and get moved in by her eight months mark.

Everyone always said that moving was among the most stressful things that a person could do, and I had never given it much thought. Until now. April tried to help as she could, but realistically, all she could do was boss me and the movers around, and keep an eye on Harriet. She could no longer see her feet and struggled to put her shoes on and get them tied in the morning. I'd bought her a new pair of sneakers, memory foam on the bottom, that didn't lace. I'm not sure if it made much of a difference, though.

But I'm worried, more than just about her discomfort. Twins usually came early. There's the matter of the scar tissue from Harriet's c-section. She wanted a birth as natural as possible despite the odds stacked against her.

And I get it, I do. Samuel and Harriet had been far from natural. Samuel had been induced too early along and she had taken the pain medications as if it would make any of it easier. Harriet had been on the opposite end of the spectrum and almost every other way, even if she'd at least made it to nine months with her. After both of those, I would want something normal, too. I just didn't want her to get obsessed with the idea and then disappointed if it didn't happen. That seemed to be a likely possibility.

With seeming mountains left of boxes to unpack for Harriet, the twins, and everything else that the house required... I'd opted to take a couple days off of work. Asking April to do that was asking to get my head bitten off. She hated the assumption that she was any less at her job now than she had been before she was pregnant, and I knew that she'd take the question in that direction, even if it was far from the intent. Harriet wasn't the most useful company when it came to unpacking box after box, but she was happy to sit inside of her playpen and watch Moana on repeat while I got to work. Her room had been the priority and gotten done pretty quickly. That was pretty much just the way that our lives worked now, though. She was always the priority.

I'd finally finished up a decent chunk of the kitchen. Cutlery and basic dishware, a few pots and bakeware out of the way. The only thing unpacked in our bedroom was clothes and toiletries. Decoration would come last, and I already knew how it would play out. April was going to over-decorate, I was going to tease her. But I was going to let her, too.

The nursery for the twins was next on the bucket list, just in case.

We had gotten lucky, in one way. Perhaps it had been a little over the top to go for a five bedroom house, but a guest room was necessary between my mom and the rest of our coworkers. You never could be sure if someone was going to need a place to stay out of the blue. One of the bedrooms was already painted a pale, sky blue and April had fallen in love with it and the natural lighting that poured in the open windows immediately. It had made which room was going to be the nursery an easy decision, no repainting involved. It was starting to seem like a cloud theme with the white furniture against the walls, two cribs and a dresser, the rocking chair. She had picked out a fuzzy green rug for a little more color of the room. Grass, as far as I was concerned. The mobiles hanging above were planet themed, my pick.

Everything was beginning to come together. In the midst of going through the different boxes while unpacking some of the basics through our bedroom, though, I'd stumbled across something that I hadn't expected to find. I don't know why – I don't know what I thought she'd done with it. But her wedding ring had been wrapped up, mixed in with other items.

I didn't know what to do with it. So I put it in the drawer with my ties the other day, knowing she wouldn't look.

When it came to divorced couples getting back together again, there were probably a lot of questions about how to go forward – whether recycling those kinds of sentimental values was appropriate or not. So I'd settled on a middle ground with it, instead. It wouldn't be her wedding ring again. Instead, this time, it would be her engagement ring.

On the assumption that she said yes, of course. I didn't know what I would do if I hadn't. She and Harriet, the babies that she was expecting, they were my entire life. I thought about them constantly whether or not I was at work, worried over all of them equally. I knew for a fact that I worried about her more than what she wanted me to and, well, that probably wasn't going to change any time soon. Even if she was the mother of my kids before she was anything else, she was still the woman that I loved. And I didn't want her to be just a girlfriend and a co-parent. I wanted her to be family. Real family. A wife, a mother. Everything that she had ever wanted for her life too.

"Are you ready for dinner, big girl?" I scooped Harriet up from her playpen as I asked the question. She was growing rapidly, close to two now with another birthday party just around the corner, and perfectly capable of running around her own. Yet I still wanted to treat her like the baby she'd once been.

"Juice," Harriet demanded once I had put her down in her chair. "Please," she followed up.

"Just a minute, sweetheart." I sort through the fridge to see what we have for dinner. Grocery shopping was on tomorrow's to do list… which meant that take-out was going to be on the agenda tonight. I poured her a cup of apple juice and handed it to her. "What do we say?" I prompted her.

"Thank you, da-da." Her syllables were slowly becoming more distinct. Milestones had been far from a problem for her, that had become pretty apparent from the beginning.

Calling up the pizza delivery place down the block, I go for the order that I know will sing to April's heart: pepperoni, mushrooms, and spinach with extra cheese. Plus a small, personal cheese pizza just for Harriet. That's one thing neither of us will have to worry about her eating.

Glancing at the time once the estimate is given, I focused a few minutes on getting the kitchen unpacked a little more. I'd leave the decor and where things went ultimately up to her, knowing that she liked to have it all organized in a certain way that I didn't quite understand. She'd no doubt want something to fill the soffit space.

The front door opened just as finished unpacking another box, and I broke down the cardboard so it could be tossed into the recycling before calling out to her.

"Hey, Apes. Good day?" I asked.

"Great day," she answered as she plopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs, kicking off her sneakers. I moved over to pick them up for her, setting them down by the table in the entryway. "I'm so tired. Can we watch an adult movie tonight?"

I stared at her for a moment. "An adult movie?"

"Yeah. A–" April paused suddenly before she burst out laughing and shook her head. "God, no, you perv. Not that kind of adult movie. Just a movie that isn't Disney or animated or anything like that. Isn't there some documentary or something on Netflix that we can watch?"

I let out a laugh of my own. "Sure," I agreed with a nod of her head, grabbing a napkin for Harriet and some of the juice that she had spilled. "Assuming someone's a good girl and goes to bed on time tonight."

"I'm a good girl!" Harriet shouted.

"Yes, yes you are, my sweet little angel." April cooed almost immediately, rubbing at her stomach. "Unlike the two little devils that I've got kickboxing inside of me. These boys are yours, that's for sure. What's for dinner?" She asked.

The flow of conversation was so sudden that I almost didn't think twice about what she was saying. "Pizza, I already ordered your favorite," I answered initially, replaying her words in my head once over. Definitely yours. I'd never questioned the paternity of the babies. Sure, I knew that she'd been with Roy, but I'd always assumed that she'd used a condom with him, there wasn't any real chance of it being anyone other than mine. I scratched my head for a moment, sighing. I had to ask. Standing around and questioning it wasn't going to do me any good. "I… I hate to ask, April, I really do. But they are definitely mine, right?"

"What?" April stared at me like I had two heads. "Jackson, of course, yes, they're yours. Are you really asking that? Did you think that I would just… that I would just run around and pretend they were yours regardless of whether or not I actually knew?" She questioned.

"No, that's not it," I shook my head. "I just… I never got too involved with the fact that you slept with someone else, you know? I didn't ask questions. I didn't want to. I was jealous and… I just wanted to make sure. I'm sorry." I breathed out a sigh. "If they're yours, they're mine. Paternity doesn't matter. I love you. I'm sorry."

"I…" she stuttered for a moment, dropping her gaze. "I'm sorry too. But they are yours, Jackson, I'm sure of it. They know you. They know that you're their daddy. They like the sound of your voice. They even like it when you snore at night."

My gaze on her softened for a moment, smiling. "You're the one who snores, April."

"Shut up!" She denied quickly, but a smile cracked across her features.

"I'm just saying. I thought there was a train going by the other night…" I grinned at her, teeth showing in full.

"Mama, I'm hungry." Harriet interrupted the moment. I couldn't help but give another good-natured chuckle. The more that she got to talking, the more fun all of the family conversations were becoming, that much was for sure.

"The food's going to be here soon, baby, I promise. Right, Daddy?" April questioned me, raising her eyebrows.

"Right, Mommy," I answered her with a nod of my head, checking the time on my watch once more. "I do have one thing that I want to take care of first, before dinner. Stay right here." I instructed her carefully. She gave me a curious look but otherwise nodded her head.

I jogged back to our bedroom for a moment, opening up the drawer to my ties. Taking a deep breath, I shift a few of them over and pull out the black box that I'd tucked her former wedding ring inside of, opening it for a moment. It still shined in the same way that it had when she was the one wearing it. Now I had to ope that she would accept wearing it once again. I put it in the pockets of my jeans for a moment, shutting my eyes and smiling to myself. I had been patient. We both had. We'd been working through our problems, step by step, no longer jumping to sex in the same way that we had before. But this time, we could be more. We could do it right.

Maybe it's not the picture perfect moment. It's certainly nothing like what I had done with her near wedding to Matthew – the big, grand gesture of standing up in front of everyone that we both knew and loved and proclaiming my love, running out of the chapel with her. But maybe that wasn't what we needed. Maybe we just needed a simple, casual moment between the two of us, Harriet as our witness. All we needed was our family.

Returning to the kitchen, April had busied herself for a moment with Harriet. She had become fussy when it came to waiting for things, unsurprisingly. I smiled and watched for a moment before clearing my throat and making my presence known.

"So, I've been unpacking our stuff as you know, finding some old things and whatnot…" I started.

"Yeah?" She prompted me to continue.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the small black box and stepping toward her. For a brief moment, we just make intense eye contact with one another. Then when I finally drop down to one knee in front of her, she let out a tiny gasp.

"And I found this. I don't want to repeat the mistakes that we've made in the past, April. And I don't want you to wear this as a wedding ring again. But I would like you to wear it. As an engagement ring. As a promise not to forget the past and the things that we've been through, but to remember it and to go forward, to do better. For us, for our children. For the entire life that we have left to spend together." I paused, taking a deep breath. "I want you to marry me, April. Really marry me. In a field, butterflies, whatever you want to do. I want it too. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and making you happy. Please, marry me again."

April stared down at me for a moment with tears in her eyes, giving me the same small smile. I knew the answer before she could say a word. In some ways, she was still just as easy to read as she had always been.

"Okay," she breathed out emotionally, nodding her head.

"Okay?" I echoed her particular word choice, a small chuckle slipping through my lips.

"Yeah, okay," April chuckled right back at me. "Okay. Okay, yes I will marry you. Yes. Yes, a hundred times yes. I want to do it right this time too. I want the field full of butterflies and the little mints that say mint to be on them, people throwing rice when we walk out of our reception… I want all of that, and I want it with you."

I stand back up on my feet once more and take her hand, pulling the ring out of the box and gently sliding it onto her finger. Much to both of our surprises, it gets stuck just past her middle knuckle. Now that was something that I hadn't accounted for.

"I guess that's the sign that I'm going to have to get a new ring," April said good-naturedly, shaking her head and tugging it right back off. "I'll put it on a necklace. Have it resting close to my heart. Just like you." She suggested.

"That was… very cliche, baby," I chuckled, shaking my head and bending down to press a sweet kiss on her lips.

The interruption of the doorbell ringing with the pizza man comes as a surprise. For a brief moment, I'd forgotten that I'd ordered it in the first place. I give her another quick kiss and grab my wallet to answer the door, tipping him more than generously in my good mood as I take the pizzas from him and quickly get the door shut so that I could return to a night with just my family.

That night, as simple as it may have been between just the three–slash–five of us, was perfect. After dinner, we go through her jewelry box and find a solid chain to slip the ring on, and she wears it for the rest of the evening. Even Harriet went down easily, as if she knew that things inside of our household were coming back to a peaceful place once more. We make love until we're both equally spent from the energy expended, and I fall asleep wrapped around her, right where I was meant to be.

Of course, when we do announce the engagement, there's a positive reaction. April decided right off the bat that the wedding would be far down the line so that we had time to plan without getting overwhelmed by the newborn twins that we were due to welcome in our life.

Arizona was thrilled, naturally. Amelia and Meredith both offered the same congratulations that she did. Karev clapped me on the back about finally managing to sort our crap out – and I couldn't help but laugh, because he hit it on the head with that. It had taken us plenty of time to get back around to it, months, years, but at least we were back on the right path once again. Knowing that we were getting it together once again was a strong, powerful feeling.

I probably should have seen the talk with Webber coming sooner, though.

"Congratulations, Jackson. I just heard about you and April." My step-father greeted me with a broad smile, placing his hand on my shoulder. "I knew that you two kids would work it out eventually. Told your mother the same thing. You just needed some time."

"Thanks," I grinned back at him. "I'm happy. I really am."

"You both look happy," he nodded. "This is good for the both of you. And Harriet and those twins, too. She's looking ready to pop and it's good that you're going to be there for her this time. Your mother and I have been talking about you two, you know. She's coming into town in a couple of weeks so she can be around when the babies are born."

Yeah, that's no surprise. "I figured she'd shown up sooner or later," I nodded.

"Kepner's family. And we stick with our family." He echoed his previous words.

"I know," I agreed.

"You do now." I couldn't tell if he was directly disagreeing or not. "To be honest, I thought you two were going to figure it all out when that little girl of yours was born. But I'm glad to see that it's happening now. You both deserve to be happy."

I stare at him for a moment. After Harriet had been born, there had been plenty of confusion, hard to separate feelings for her as the mother of my child and romantic feelings. I still couldn't entirely, looking back. But I knew where he was coming from, and let out a sigh. I did have to wonder for just a moment how much of this was actually coming from him and how much of it was coming from my mother.

"Yeah, we do," I said. "Have you mentioned the engagement to Mom? Because if not, I'd really like to be able to tell her myself. We've been keeping it off of social media so we can tell her in person again." I asked.

Richard paused for a moment before complying. "Sure, I'll keep it to myself. She said that she was going to send her flight ternary to me this week, so I'll make sure to forward it along to you.

"Thanks." A moment later, my pager went off, and I pulled it off of my belt to check it. "I've got to take this– but thanks, really, I appreciate it."

Even if we weren't always on the same page about everything and Richard wasn't my father, he'd always been good about stepping in and filling the role when I needed some kind of paternal guidance. Mark had been that role for me for a long time, honestly. But Webber had gotten pretty good at it in the past few years too.

Moving down to the emergency room quickly, there's a patient being brought in from some kind of house fire. I arrive at nearly the same time that the ambulance does, helping to get her off of the gurney and into a patient bed of our own. April joined me in the room after a moment, a little slow moving but I don't complain. It doesn't take long for either of us to realize that we needed to get her up to the operating room quickly.

I wait until the two of us are settled into surgery and have her stable enough where every move isn't completely restrained by time to make more idle chitchat.

"So, Webber heard about the engagement, of course. But he promised not to say anything to my mom until we got the chance to tell her for ourselves. Apparently, she's coming back to town soon so she can be around whoever the babies are born." I dump the knowledge that I'd already heard onto her quickly, glancing up at her face to see what reaction I can from behind her surgical mask.

"Oh, great," April breathed out in relief. "Because I really didn't want her to hear through word of mouth. I mean, come on, after she found out about us getting witched? I thought that she might actually rip my eyes out."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Well, she knows you a lot better now than she does then." I reminded her. "And she likes you. Even if she's a little over opinionated about all matters of my life, she does like you. She loves you as the mother of her grandchildren, too. Don't forget that."

"Loves me so much she was planning on taking Harriet away from me." She reminded me bitterly.

"Nothing like that is ever going to happen again," I replied. "I'm not going to let anything like that happen, okay? I promise you that much. Nothing is going to get in the way of our family. Not my mom, not anyone else. I promise you that much." That was something I was completely serious about. I wasn't going to let her get in the way of things, not when it seemed like the two of us had finally come to a way of genuinely working out our problems. I couldn't take that risk.

"I trust you," April paused for a moment, letting out a sharp breath and wincing for a moment. I stared at her, waiting for some kind of explanation or something further. "And I have forgiven her. Even if she never properly apologized. But I have not forgotten."

"April, is everything okay? You looked like you were in pain there for a moment." I drop the subject of my mother briefly, focused on her welfare once more.

She shook her head, stilling her hands for a moment and sucking in a deep breath through her nose. "I'm fine." I could see the smile that she forced from behind her mask. "Just some Braxton Hicks, nothing to be worried about. I can power through. I'm good. Really, I'm good."

"The more that you say that, the less inclined I am to believe you…" I commented slowly. "Why don't you just sit down for a minute? Or walk around some? I read that movement is supposed to help." I suggested.

She paused for a moment, shifting her weight from side to side. "Yeah, okay. Let me just move around a little bit and I'll be right back here." She agreed.

Her tools were handed off to the intern assisting for a moment and I try to focus on the patient in front of the table, watching her pace a bit of the O.R. with both of her hands on her lower back. I count to thirty in my head so I'm not rushing her, even if each second ticking by only had me more and more worried about here. She was thirty-four weeks. Not ridiculously early, not for twins, but still technically preterm.

"April, is it going away?" I finally questioned once the countdown in my head was done.

Before she had the chance to answer me, there's the distinct sound of water splattering against the floor of the O.R. I stilled myself so I don't make a mistake with the patient on the table, looking up to see a stunned expression on my fiancee's face as she stared at me with nothing short of absolute panic in her eyes.

"That– that… Jackson, my water just broke."

Even I took pause at her words for a moment, swallowing the immediate rush of emotions that came to the surface with her words. This was it. She was in labor. We were safe, in a hospital, and she was in labor. Even if her water had just broken in the middle of an operating room. Not exactly a sterile field anymore, but at least she hadn't been actually standing at the table when it happened.

"Bokhee, I need you to page to get some other surgeons to take over this case. Now." I turned to her with the short instruction before giving April all of my attention again.

"Yeah, your water just broke. I think it's safe to say you're officially in labor, baby."


	16. Chapter 16

**_ APRIL _ **

Every fiber of my brain was fighting to keep these babies inside of me.

I don't care how ridiculous it is. I don't care if I'm already thirty-four weeks around and that was pretty much signs for all things good, maybe a week in the NICU, but nothing extreme. Nothing devastating. Fear was a powerful thing.

Teeth clenched and grinding together, I'd refused to change into a patient gown. I wasn't ready to be in labor. And truthfully, I don't think that two more weeks of the babies cooking inside of me would have made any difference in the world. After Samuel, after Harriet… I needed normal. I needed a normal labor. Even if normal was hours of pain and screaming and cursing out Jackson for putting the babies inside of me, that was exactly what I needed. To be fussy and cranky and in pain like any normal mother. For the fear that I felt to be that of a normal mother.

But instead, the terror that coursed through me was anything but normal with the context. I remembered too vividly how small Samuel was. I knew that both of the twins measured bigger than him, healthy sizes for their gestational period. Arizona had reassured me of that with each ultrasound, I'd felt the strong little kicks and punches inside of me, on par with where Harriet had been. There was no way that either of them had O.I. Genetic tests and my own anecdotal evidence was proof of that. I knew that they had nothing of the sort.

Yet then there's the same thing that happened to Harriet. What if they were breach? Two weeks ago at my last ultrasound, neither of them had flipped. I knew there were ways to make a baby lip, but I didn't know if that was more complicated when it came to having twins. It made sense that it would be. What if the cord was tangled? Compressed? The possibilities of things that could go wrong were endless. No one ever really talked about how dangerous pregnancy could be. Sure, I had no typical signs of high blood pressure or preeclampsia. But just because those were common complications didn't mean they were the only ones. I could throw an embolism or a hundred other complications. Just because the babies inside of me were healthy didn't guarantee that it would be a normal and successful delivery.

That was what really terrified me. Harriet had been healthy and then I'd nearly died bringing her into the world, and there had been no heartbeat in the cord when Warren had felt. There was nothing in the world that was stopping that from happening to me all over again.

And the scar tissue from her c-section was another concern altogether. I knew that Arizona and Warren had both done their best when it came to getting me fixed, but I still had to worry about the possibility of it reopening, or something detaching, or anything else that could go wrong. Reasonably, most of it could be avoided with another c-section. But then there was the list of complications from c-sections, regardless of this being a first world country. I'd read up on the way that we compared to places like Italy after Arizona's proposal and then subsequently finding out I was pregnant again. No matter how I tried to spin it, every corner was full of dangerous possibilities.

"April, this is not something that you can just push off. Clenching and trying to hold them in is only going to do more harm to you and your babies," Arizona tried to insist.

"I just don't think that this is happening today." I shook my head insistently.

"You're water just broke in the middle of the operating room. This is happening. This is happening today." Jackson put his hand on my shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. We can do this, April. You can do this." He praised. He turned away, addressing one of the nurses in the room for a moment. "Can we get a birthing ball in here?"

That was something that we had talked about, something that I had wanted, but all I could do was continue to shake my head and refuse everything that was happening around me. This was a problem that I couldn't run away from no matter how I tried and avoid everything that was happening. But I didn't know how to go forward. I couldn't take another loss. Neither of us could.

"Can we have the room for just a minute?" Jackson requested, turning toward Arizona.

Arizona gave a quick nod of her head and stepped out of the room with one of the nurses, whispering about something that I couldn't hear directly. A good thing, a bad thing, I couldn't tell. I was already focused solely on my own panic and nothing else.

"April, what's going on?" He moved next to me, rubbing my lower back.

"The babies aren't ready. They aren't ready to come out." I said with a shake of my head, wrapping my hands around the rails of the bed, forcing out a long breath as another contraction wrecked through my system. My face scrunched together, trying to fight off the pain even though I couldn't ignore it.

"I think they're going to disagree with you on that one," Jackson shook his head. His hand moved around to my stomach and rubbed it for a moment. I didn't push him away. "They're ready to come out. And it's okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. I'm right here. You're in the hospital, you've got Arizona here, Carina too. You've got a dream team of doctors. You've got two healthy twins. They're ready to meet their momma. You gotta let them."

Tears were blurring in my vision and I rocked back and forth for a moment, falling silent until the worst of the contraction had passed completely. "I'm not ready." The words come out with a little bit of a sob, squeezing my eyes shut tightly and wishing they hadn't come out.

"It's okay," Jackson pressed a kiss against my temple. "I'm here. I'm right here. You're going to be okay."

"You don't know that," I disagreed quickly. "No one knows that. Anything could happen."

"You're right, anything could happen." He countered. "And that includes good things, April. You used to throw around all those little sayings – so what happened to third time's the charm, huh? This could be it for you. This could be the good one."

There's a part of me that wanted to listen to him, to have everything go magically right and not have to think about all of the bad possibilities that could happen. I could blame it on being a doctor and knowing the ins and outs of complications, but that wasn't the truth. It was just me. Paranoid old me, looking to poke holes into thinks, questioning and doubting.

Bending at the hips, my hands rested on my knees. "I'm scared. I'm so scared." I admitted quietly.

"It's okay to be scared," Jackson reassured me. "But you're going to be just fine, April, I promise. I'm going to be here every step of the way for you. I've been here for you the past few months, haven't I?" He prompted me.

"Yeah," I gave a small nod of my head. "Yeah, you have."

"That's not about to change right now, you know that. You can do this, April. You're the strongest woman that I know. You've been through Hell and back and each time, you come out stronger. You don't let it wreck who you are, you don't turn into some… bitter shell of a woman. You've got me. You've got Arizona, Carina… and c'mon, you've got God. After everything that you've been through, I think the big man upstairs is willing to cut you break with these two." He implored.

"We can do this?" I looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to force hope back into my system again.

"We can do this. You can do this, April. I promise." Jackson eased his hand along my back more. "Why don't we get you on the bed, okay? Get off your feet for a few minutes. I know that they must be killing you by now." He suggested lightly.

I give another jerky little nod of my head and slowly move onto the bed, scooting and adjusting the pillows behind me. "Will you… ask Carina to come in here?"

Maybe I should be asking for Arizona. She's my best friend and she had done ultrasounds throughout the pregnancy, reassured me that everything with the twins was happy and healthy. But she had been there for both Samuel and Harriet. Even if Dr. Herman had actually delivered Samuel, and Ben had cut out Harriet, she'd been in the background for both. Maybe it was silly. But I also knew from Arizona that Carina had never lost a mother in childbirth before. And that was something that I needed right now. The promise of something good and safe, even if it meant stepping on my best friend's toes just a little.

"Sure." Jackson complied and dipped his head out of the room for a moment. When I'm alone, I take a few seconds just to breathe. Stress wasn't good. I wanted to keep my heart rate with a normal range.

"Hi, April." Accented words greet me and I looked up from my nails to Carina, forcing a smile.

"Will you check how dilated I am?"

Midst all of it and my stubbornness, I hadn't actually let anyone touch me, let alone examine me. It's a little awkward to move around and get my scrubs off and a patient gown on but Jackson helps me, pulling off my underwear and laying flat on my back. It's much more comfortable to have her give me a pelvic than it had been Warren.

"Five centimeters. You're halfway there. Arizona said that you want to try and do this as naturally as possible, si?" Carina said.

"Yes, please. I want a normal birth." I pleaded.

"We will do everything we can to make sure you get that, I promise. Vaginal birth after a cesarean can be risky but I'll keep an eye on you. For now, you need to just ride out the contractions until you are further dilated." She continued. I nodded my head, forcing a clearly pained smile. No point in acting like this wasn't agonizing. At least it wasn't as bad as getting cut open without anesthesia. That was a thought to keep me going.

But the hours of laboring contractions do not go by easily. Not in the slightest. Each one ended up worse than the last, even as they became closer and closer together. There was only so much that Jackson or anyone else could do for me. The reassurances meant less and less with the more pain that came.

After hours, five centimeters became eight and the pain was unbearable. And it kept going. Not enough to push me to the point of unconsciousness like it had been with Harriet, but it was testing my limits. Just about every swear word that I knew had been let out at some point or another. I'd probably made it too easy for Jackson to step out of the room and call both of our mothers to let them know what was going on. No woman in labor is pleasant company regardless of the love there.

The pain of contractions eventually becomes the pain of bearing down to push. I'm sure that Jackson was about ready to lose his hand before I could even get the first baby out, and I'm about ready to lose the lower half of my body when the first of the twins are born. There's a brief moment of joy, though, where I forget there's still another one to go.

"It's a boy!" Carina announced cheerily as Jackson stepped forward to cut the umbilical cord.

"It's a boy?" I questioned, straining my head to get a peek at the baby. Our son. We had a son. Another son.

"A son," Jackson said, beaming down at me. "He's so handsome, April. He's beautiful."

I stared up at the both of them with wide, wet eyes. My body was completely spent and I was drenched in sweat from the energy and toll that this had already taken on me, loose strands from my bun stuck against my face. "Wow." It's the only syllable that I could manage to get out, momentarily at a loss for anything else.

"April, you still have one more baby to push out." Carina reminded me gently.

"Oh god…" I collapsed back against the pillow for a moment, pushing out a few labored breaths and shaking my head. "I'm so tired. I.. I need a break." I stared at the sibling, just barely shaking.

Jackson shifted our newborn son to one arm carefully, his free hand now reaching for one of my own and giving it a squeeze. "Hey, you're strong. Don't forget that, April. You can't give up now. We're so close. You're so close to being done. You've just got a few more pushes, and then we've got both of our boys, baby. Just a few more pushes. You can do it."

There's no choice in the matter, not really. I have to keep going. I take a few long moments to just breathe and try to keep myself from freaking out any further at the prospect of pushing out yet another child through a far too tiny hole, but I buckle down.

I scream again. It's the only thing that I can manage to try and get myself through this.

The cries of another baby being born is the only thing that brings me any relief. I slump down for a moment, shutting my eyes and letting the necessary processes happen. I'm completely spent. I could sleep for a year – two, maybe. Even if that was going to be the exact opposite of what the next few years of my life were going to have.

"You have two beautiful little boys, April, Jackson. Congratulations." Carina said gently, stepping up next to me with the second boy in her arms. I accepted them eagerly with a wide smile blowing across my features, staring in awe at the tiny baby placed in my arms.

"Oh, he's so perfect…" I murmured out loud, the light weight of the child mostly resting on my chest. "Hi. Hi, baby. I'm your momma." Very lightly, I brushed the pad of my pointer finger against a chubby cheek. "Hi," I repeated the syllable. I stared at the tiny boy in awe for a few more moments before finally looking up at Jackson with the same smile wide on my cheeks. "They're so perfect, Jackson. They're perfect." I beamed.

"They are. Just like you, April. You did so well." Jackson stepped closer, sitting down so that I could see the other twin boy. "They're so perfect. So handsome."

"They look like their daddy."

The staff gives us a few more minutes to awe over our twins, admiring the two of them. They were difficult to tell apart side by side, just as identical as promised. Dark tufts of hair and light eyes that matched their father's. Noses like mine, a little more narrow than their older sister's. An even mix of both of us. They were perfect.

Eventually, Carina does return with the reminder that I still needed to deliver the placenta and that the could take up the boys to the nursery and get everything checked out. It's quick and easy compared to everything that I had just been through.

Jackson laid down on the bed next to me and wrapped around me comfortably for a moment, his hand resting on my stomach. It's still nearly just as large as it had been before, a little less firm, and he rubbed over it gently. I'm exhausted in every way possible. Everything beneath my shoulders hurt. But rolling onto my side felt good, as did having him soothing over different areas of soreness. Before I realized it, my eyes were shut and there's nothing but a soothing sleep.

When eyes open once again, Jackson was no longer curled up against me. Instead, he and his mother were both seated at the chairs beside my bed, each one of them holding one of the twin boys.

"Hi, Mommy." He said to me softly, bouncing a sleeping baby.

"Hi," I whispered out hoarsely, continuing to lay on my side and taking advantage for a moment.

"April, these two boys are so precious." Catherine glanced up at him with a broad smile. "Aren't you? Oh, yes. And you already love your Grandma Catherine, don't you? Just like your big sister." She beamed.

I smiled at the both of them for a moment, glancing at Jackson, then at both of the boys. "Thank you."

It's too easy to watch them for a few moments and see them cooing over our boys. We'd gone back and forth with a dozen names, this time not waiting until they were born. And now that we knew the gender of the babies, knowing exactly what to call them wasn't going to be an issue. But it wasn't the only thing that I wanted to talk to her about, either. There's still the engagement that neither of us had mentioned to her. Taking advantage of her while she's soft and cuddling one of our newborn sons seemed like the perfect time for her to have a good reaction.

"Jackson, I'm starving," I announced with a sheepish smile. "Gimme my baby."

I watched him stand up and gently bend over to place the little boy in my arms. Now that he was in my arms I could see he had a small nasal cannula and I glanced up to see his brother had the same. He's smaller than Harriet had been, but if the two of them were here and relaxed without saying a thing, then it meant things were probably good. None of us were hurt or suffering. We were all healthy. He had been right. Everything was okay.

"They are beautiful little boys, April. You did well." Catherine complimented me. "I had to admit that I was suspicious when I heard about all of this happening. But these two boys are just to die for," she continued.

"They're perfect," I echoed the happy sentiment. "There's something that I want to tell you, though."

Her eyebrows raised up. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

"Jackson and I are engaged."

A moment passed as she no doubt processed the bomb that I was dropping onto her lap. My gaze dropped down to the sleepy little boy in my hands as he yawned and I couldn't help but let out a broad smile before looking up at my soon-to-be-again mother-in-law. She didn't look angry or surprised. I'd expected one of those two reactions to happen. I waited for a moment until she finally said something.

"Well, I guess that I should have seen that coming," she murmured. "I'm not surprised. I knew as soon as Jackson told me that you two were having more babies, you were going to end up back together again. But I don't want to see either of you hurt, not again. That was a nasty thing, what you went through." It was a bit hard to tell whether or not Catherine was criticizing me personally.

"Neither of us wants that either," I clarified quickly. "We've been working together to be better, to not make the same mistakes. Learning how to compromise and talk about things without hurting each other. And… I've been going to therapy." I admitted, chewing on my lower lip for a moment. It's a lot to tell her. I'm not sure how she'd respond to something like that. "I wasn't sure about it at first but it's actually been helping me a lot. I've gotten over a lot of my issues and I think that's made things better for the both of us." I explained fully.

Catherine stared at me for a moment before nodding her head. "I'm glad that you're getting help, April. That's good for you. For the both of you." She murmured gently. "And I am happy for the both of you. That you're taking things slow and not just running off to god knows where and I'm hearing about it weeks later."

"That's not going to happen," I said quickly. "We're doing things the right way. I promise, Catherine. We're not going to fall into the same trap that we did last time. Last time… we were dumb. We were just kids in love and we ran off with it and it didn't work. But this time we're adults. We're parents. We have three beautiful babies who we want nothing more than the best for, and we want to do that together."

"I believe you."

The words are unexpected and yet they warmed my heart all the same. Even if I had become better about no longer depending on others and their approval for everything, her words do mean something to me. Catherine knew the both of us well. I'd appreciated and respected her long before Jackson and I had been anywhere close to being in a relationship.

I wanted this to work more than anything. Well, almost anything. But I knew that things finally working out in a positive and healthy way between me and Jackson would lead to a better and happier life for our children. That was the top priority, above all else, making sure that our children had the best life possible, better than what the both of us had grown up with. We both wanted to be good parents. We both were good parents. We'd done our best possible job with Harriet, and now we had two more babies to add to the equation. It was going to work. We would make it work.

A few moments later Jackson comes back with a tray of food. He set it down gently and we traded what we had in our hands, him taking the baby and me going straight for the pudding cup.

"April spilled the beans." Catherine addressed Jackson, and I let out a small laugh.

"What'd you do?" Jackson questioned, looking up at me with raised eyebrows.

"I told her that we were engaged. You said you wanted to do it in person." I reminded him.

"And she knew that I couldn't be mad when I get to hold my beautiful little grandson in my arms. Didn't she?" Catherine suggested and I gave a guilty nod. I was easy to read, I knew that. But the opportunity had been a pretty perfect one.

Jackson sat down slowly, leaning over toward his mom and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you," he said. "You're still here and smiling so I'm guessing that means that you're happy for the both of us." He evaluated.

"Can't be mad with this one." She echoed, leaning down and nuzzling her nose against the son in her arms. "So, what are we going to call these two?" Catherine finally asked as she glanced up at the two of us.

I looked at Jackson for a moment, quirking an eyebrow at him to see if he was going to say anything different from what we had discussed before. We had both been a little picky when it came to the names and going back and forth. I'd always thought that I would give my children strong names from the Bible, but this was a compromise. One was and one wasn't, but they both had strong and beautiful names, just like their sister, and their brother.

"Jackson, you can tell her," I said with a smile.

"Well, Mom, the one that you're holding is Nathaniel." Kepner-Avery was assumed. We'd decided to keep with the trend even if we were going to get married again. I'd taken his last name for personal but not professional circumstances. Even if being an Avery was a big deal, I was always going to be Dr. Kepner first.

"God has given." I echoed the meaning gently, smiling at the both of them.

"And the one that I'm holding is Oliver." Jackson finally said after a moment.

"The olive tree. Fruitfulness, beauty, and dignity."

I give the both of them a big smile, proud of the names that we had already chosen out for the two of them. No middle names, like their sister, mostly from the mouthful that having a hyphenated last name. They were beautiful and perfect.

"Carina and Arizona both looked at them," Jackson informed me after a moment. "They're perfectly healthy. Nathaniel's five pounds, five ounces. Oliver is five pounds, one ounce. They want to keep them a few days just to make sure that everything's good and healthy. Carina said she'd come by in a bit to talk about breastfeeding and their sucking reflex, but… they're healthy, baby. They're healthy and you're healthy. Remember what I said to you while you were in labor? You say it all the time."

"Third time's the charm."


	17. Chapter 17

**_ JACKSON _ **

We were lucky. April is, especially, and she knew it. She gets discharged a few days before the twins do, which gives us both a few more nights of somewhat normal sleep while they were at the hospital.

But when Nathaniel and Oliver finally do come home, everything else in our lives pretty much goes out the window. We alternate with keeping Harriet at home and taking her to daycare, not wanting her to think that we'd forgotten about her with the new baby in our lives, but overwhelmed with newborn twins and a two year old. Catherine stayed in town for a few weeks and helped on and off, as did a few of our coworkers – Arizona, Ben, and Owen primarily making appearances at our house.

The thing about twins, though, was it was about a hundred times harder than having just one baby.

If one baby cried, then the odds were his brother was going to join in any second no matter how quickly one of us tried to tend to them. It was… well, kind of terrible. Neither of them liked to sleep. Harriet had been a pretty good baby, in hindsight. She could have slept through a house alarm. But the twins woke up at just about everything little thing. And when the two of them joined forces with screaming in the middle of the night, not only were the four of us but then Harriet was up, too. Our lives became absolute insanity.

Isolation had become a little more normal for the two of us, as well. Sure, in the first few weeks there's not much motivation to get out, regardless of the circumstances. But it became quickly apparent that even attempting to get out with twins just wasn't worth the hassle.

Despite every challenge and obstacle that was thrown around the corner with having twin boys in our life, though, I had to give pretty much all the credit to April.

She was amazing. I'd always known that she was an amazing mom, but watching her balance and become more efficient with every passing day was incredible. How she managed to breastfeed the both of them at once without ripping out her hair, well, I didn't even begin to get there. There were moments during my own exhaustion when I confused one with the other, but she hadn't even done that. Or at least, not in front of me.

Honestly, raising twins is the most impressive and bravest thing that we had ever done together. It was impossible not to look at the boys and be in absolute aw awe of their perfect little fingers, toes, and ears and think what an amazing chance and experience this was. The fact that countless things had to go right to create our boys was not lost on me for one second. We'd managed to pull off not only piecing our relationship back together during one of the most challenging parts of her life and our life, but we'd managed to do that and more. A year ago, I would have never imagined that this was where my life would be now.

I wouldn't take it back or change a single thing in the world, though. My heart and capacity to love had grown when she had given birth to Harriet, both for her and our daughter, and it had done the same thing again with the twins. Now, the amount of love that I had available for them and for my fiance, it was immeasurably large.

"I got it," I whispered to her as the cries on the baby monitor woke us both up again for the umpteenth time that particular night, rolling over and pressing a kiss against her temple.

April was going back to work in the morning. I'd volunteered to take the next three days off of work while we tried to adjust to both being full-time surgeons and parents of three. I could try and catch up on sleep during the day some since Harriet would go with her up to the hospital daycare.

Pushing myself out of the bed, I quickly make my way to the nursery. Oliver's the offender on this particular morning and just in the moment that I've grabbed him to scoop him out of the crib and try to get him out, Nathaniel starts crying. Of course.

"Alright, alright," I muttered, half to myself and half to the boys. With one hand, I hold Oliver up and against my shoulder, giving a little bounce and sway of my frame to try to soothe him back to sleep. My other reached into the crib to rub Nathaniel's stomach gently, trying to get the both of them to calm down at the same time and hope they didn't agitate each other any further.

"Calm down, little buddies. We don't wanna wake up Mommy, okay? She's got a big day tomorrow. It's just going to be the three of us."

It takes a few minutes before I can get Oliver to calm back down again. Once he's no longer fussy, I put him down and immediately pick Nathaniel up, not wanting to jinx anything. It doesn't take quite as long to get him calmed down as it had his minutes older brother, much to my relief. Before long, I'm able to collapse down into bed with April once again and fall asleep to the sound of her snoring.

But the alarm goes off in the morning a few hours later, after I have to get up once more to feed the both of them. There was plenty of altering between proper breastfeeding and from the bottle, a bit of a challenge when it came to two – and an adjustment that would have been necessary to make come her going to work, anyways. This was probably the only adjustment that we were prepared for.

My eyelids barely crack open, watching her get out of bed slowly. I let out a groan as I sit up and crack my back, hearing the shower turn on immediately. I know that she would want to breastfeed the boys before going to work, but I'd let them sleep a little longer. No point in waking them up unnecessarily.

Instead, I go to Harriet's room. She's already up and waiting, quietly. God, do I love her for that.

"Hey, sweetheart, good morning." I greeted her, picking her up from her crib. April and I both had talked about whether or not we should move her to a bed soon, but decided against it. Neither of us was eager for her to grow up even though it seemed like she was doing so more and more each day.

"Hi, dada," Harriet said. She placed her hand on my face, pressing against it.

"Let's get you a clean nappy and dressed, okay? You and Mommy are going to work together today." I speak to her as I set her down on top of her changing table. She doesn't put up too much of a fuss as I get her into a pair of jeans and a floral top that April had picked out.

"No shoes, no shoes!" That was the fuss that she did choose to put up once I put socks on her feet, and I relent. It'll be awhile before she and April are out the door, anyways. Better to keep her quiet and get her breakfast before anything else.

I placed Harriet down on the dresser. "Let's go to the kitchen for breakfast, okay? I'm going to check on Mommy real quick."

"Bweak-fast, bweak-fast." Harriet chanted as she waddled down the hallway. I paused outside of our bedroom door, keeping an eye on our daughter.

"Babe, you doing alright in there? I've got Harriet dressed and gonna get her started on breakfast. Do you need anything?" I called out. She's out of the shower but that's about all that I can tell from where I'm standing.

"Can you make me something to eat? I'm almost done with my hair!" April called out.

"Sure thing," I answered her.

Following our daughter into the kitchen, I lift her up into her chair and get her a bowl of cheerios and spoon. She's been going back and forth between perfect behavior and terrible behavior, a combination of terrible twos and no longer being the only child in the house, I'm sure. This morning she seems to be in a good enough mood, shoes thing aside.

I dig through the fridge to pull some vegetables and eggs out, preparing an omelet for April with cheese, mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, and green peppers. It should be good for her. I start to brew a cup of dark roast coffee, knowing that she was going to need that more than anything else today. She'd been sticking to one or none, but the latter definitely wasn't going to be an option today.

When April finally appeared from our bedroom and bathroom, she looked as radiant as ever. It's hard to tell that she'd had twins two months ago and that the two of us hadn't had real sleep in the same amount of time now. Hair curled, makeup covering the bags we both had. Her breasts are still wonderfully full, too.

"You look beautiful," I greeted her gently, bending down and one hand cupping her cheek, capturing her lips on my own for a long kiss. "Are you sure we can't just put all the kids in daycare today and have a Mommy and Daddy day?" I teased her, grinning.

"Hi, Mama." Harriet interrupted.

"No, Mommy needs surgery." April chuckled, giving me one more quick kiss on the lips before moving past me to grab the cup of coffee and omelet, quickly going to town on it. "Hi, sweetheart," she said and blew a noisy kiss on our daughter. "I already fed both of the boys. You'll need to burp them in a few minutes, I'm sure." She added to me.

"I got it, baby, don't worry." I reminded her. "You're going to have an excellent day at work and I'm going to be just fine with our boys. You're going to spend a few hours as a surgeon and thinking about nothing other than surgery and patients. I've got this."

April gave me a large smile before taking a long sip of her coffee. "I know. I trust you." She nodded. "The first day back, though… I know last time you got called into work and Owen spent all day with little miss," she tussled the curls on top of Harriet's head as she spoke. "I don't know if he's going to be able to survive with both of the boys on his own just yet, so take it easy."

I chuckled at the memory and gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Do not worry about a thing, okay? I've got this all under control. Nate and Oliver are gonna be just fine."

"And are you?" She raised her eyebrows at me.

"And I will be just fine. As will you and Harriet. Today's going to be great, okay?"

Optimistic words.

The day does not go quite as smoothly as I had planned, and honestly, I'd set the bar pretty low to start. Two babies against one man was not an easy combination. I get both of them burped and changed into fresh diapers and onesies once April and Harriet are out the door. They're both still sleeping a lot, even if the increments that they sleep in aren't particularly continuous. No one throws up. I get peed on twice. Nathaniel's diaper explodes with poop at one point halfway through the day and I'm left wondering how certain things are even possible.

At eight weeks, the both of them had started to smile. Really smile. Not just the reflective way that babies do when they're first born, but when they see me peering at them over the railing of their crib, they both smile up at me. There's no better feeling in the world than that.

They do calm down, thankfully. I barely get time to clean up the house a little so April doesn't have to come home to a complete mess, getting out bed made. It only stays smoothly laid out for so long, though. I lay down in bed with a twin on each side of me and a colorful book in hand, reading out loud to the two of them.

April does send a couple of texts throughout the day to check up on the three of us and each time I assure her that there's nothing dramatic going on and send a couple of pictures of the boys to prove my point. I know that she'll be happy to tell me about whatever gory surgery she got her hands on by the time that she's home again, and I can't wait to hear it from her. She always lit up in a certain way whenever she talked about her passions, and that was just another one of those things.

By the time that I hear the front door open, I've got Oliver down for bed hoping for a few hours and still rocking Nathaniel to sleep. While she had probably wanted to wish the two of them good night, there was still a good chance that at least one of them would wake up again before either of us actually got down to bed ourselves. Placing him down gently, I sneak out of the room, relieved when neither of them cries out for me.

"Hi, baby," I greeted her gently as I closed the nursery door behind me. "Good day?"

"Great day," she stretched up and placed a kiss on my lips. "I had such a gory MVC vic come in. Spent hours and hours in surgery and I loved absolutely every minute of it. God, did it feel good." She gave a happy little dance as she spoke.

"Good to hear," I gave her another kiss and then squatted down to give Harriet a quick kiss on the cheek, grinning as she attached herself to her mother's leg. "The boys are in bed. There is a salad and plate of spaghetti in the fridge for you. I was thinking that maybe I could run you a bubble bath if you wanted?" I questioned with a raise of my brows.

April grinned at me, patting Harriet on the head gently and moving to the fridge. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"You might have mentioned it once or twice." I chuckled. "Eat. Enjoy." I bent down to scoop Harriet up into my arms, tossing her gently up into the air and catching her easily before putting her back down on her hips. "And how about I take you and get you ready for bed, little miss? Does that sound like a plan?"

"Sleepy, Daddy," Harriet muttered and placed her head on my shoulder.

"Yep, sounds like a plan." I kissed her on the temple. "I'll go put her down and start you a bubble bath," I informed her, giving April a quick kiss on the cheek as well. Harriet was just as tired as she claimed to be and didn't put up a fight as I changed her into a pair of pajamas covered in bananas, going down easily. I tucked her in gently, giving her a few more kisses and reminding her just how much I loved her.

Then I go to the bathroom and begin to fill up the tub with warm water, setting out a towel and lighting some of the candles that she'd picked up from Bath & Body Works. Once it was filled up properly, I dropped in a bath bomb. Spoiling her was the goal.

Testing out the temperature of the water once, I go to join her in the kitchen, finding her rinsing off her plate. I looped an arm lazily around her waist, nuzzling my nose into her hair and breathing in her smell. At the moment, she smells like the hospital. But I'm sure that she prefers that over smelling like pee and spit up.

"Just put it in the dishwasher and we'll worry about the kitchen later. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." I urged her.

April doesn't put up any fight and we move to the bathroom. I help her get out of her clothes and into the tub, sitting on the edge of the tub and massaging her shoulders gently. She's tense. I squeezed the tension out of her muscles and dig in to get it out of her, amused by the way that she moaned whenever I hit the right spot. I've missed hearing that noise. Sex was the last thing on either of our minds. We barely got to sleep in the first place. This was more than intimate enough.

"How did you do, Mr. Mom?" She asked, leaning back a little further and taking one of my hands, kissing the back of my knuckles gently. "The boys didn't put up too much trouble for you, did they?" She asked.

"Just the normal, ridiculous amount of pee and poop," I chuckled out easily. "Nothing too crazy."

I let her soak for a while before I join her in the tub, spread my legs so that she sat between them and leaned back against me. It's nice to just hold her like that. Really nice, actually. It took me a few minutes to notice the fact that she had actually fallen asleep in my arms, and I don't bother to wake her up just yet. I run the sponge over her skin and massage her scalp gently. She's calm and quiet, perfectly serene.

The both of us sit there until the water finally turns cold, and I try not to jar her too much as I reach forward and pull out the plug so that it could drain properly. There's only so much movement that I could reasonably manage before it does wake her up again.

"Hm… oh. Oh. I fell asleep." April realized out loud, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, yeah you did," I answered and placed a kiss on the back of her shoulder. "I think you earned it, though, don't worry. I think it's Mommy's bedtime now, yeah?" I teased her, helping her get out and making sure that neither of us slips in the process.

She hummed and we both dry off. Even if I'm exhausted, I go for one more exertion and scoop her up into my arms to carry her bridal style to bed. Neither of us had forgotten about the fact that we were engaged but all of the wedding planning was put on hold until we got the rest of our life back on track. It'd probably be a couple more weeks of adjusting to work and the kids before we could even think about adding that into the mix again.

"Don't forget the boys have the immunizations appointment tomorrow," she reminded me as I curled up in bed around her. "They've got the five in one, the first pneumococcal injection, and the rotavirus vaccination." She listed off easily.

"I know," I hummed, pressing a kiss on the soft spot behind her ear. "I've got it. I'm sure that they're going to put up a big fuss, but you know, I'll get it handled. Don't worry. Are you going to come for it?" I asked.

"Yeah, as long as I don't get pulled into surgery, I'll be there." April agreed. "I already know that they're going to throw a fit about it." She murmured.

As if on cue, one of the twins began crying on the monitor. I let out a sigh, patting her shoulder gently and rolling out of bed to go take care of it. By the time that I return to join her in bed again, she's already asleep and snoring soundly. I double check that the alarm is set for the morning before falling asleep next to her again.

Four times waking up in the middle of the night wasn't terrible. If anything, it had become just about average. I'm still completely exhausted by the time that our alarms go off in the morning, but it's not that much of a big deal. Nothing new, at least.

"Good morning, sunshine," I gave my best cheery voice that I could considering.

April groaned loudly, stretching out her arms. "Morning," she mumbled, rolling onto her other side, facing away from me and putting her pillow over her head to try and block everything out. "Just five more minutes, please."

"You and I both know that it's not going to be just five more minutes." I reminded her, running my hand over her curves on her side. "C'mon, we've got to get up. You've got work and I've got the twin's appointment. Let's get a head start before any of the kids wake up."

"Fine." She muttered. It was undeniably cute when she got grumpy in the morning, even if I'm not much better off. "I'm gonna feed the boys. Can you get Harriet and breakfast?" She asked.

"Not a problem."

We exchanged a quick kiss before going along with our separate tasks quickly. I get breakfast set up in the kitchen first before going to attend to our daughter and getting her and her bag ready for the day. She's not quite as compliant as she had been the morning before, but that doesn't come out until she's throwing Cheerios across the kitchen.

It's a really, really good thing April complied enough with my spending to let us hire a maid to come once a week. We both feel obligated to pay her pretty more generously than what her normal rate was. I'm sure that she had cleaned worse houses than what the two of us maintained with a two year old and twins, but it would be good enough for now. I'm sure she wouldn't let us keep the maid once things were a little more under control, but for now, it had become a necessary part of our routine.

"C'mon, sweetheart. You're going to have a fun day at daycare." I tried to perk her up, guiding a feCheeriosos into her mouth. "Just think, a month from now you're going to start pre-school. And you're going to have so much fun and make so many new friends, baby. You're going to love it." Even though she could be a little on the dramatic side since the twins had been born, she's a lot like April in many ways. Hopefully, she'd take after her in the aspect that she would love school once she started

"Aw, baby," April cooed as she walked in to interrupt the messy scene. "It's okay. Mommy and Daddy love you so much." She kissed her on top of the head. "So, so much. You're gonna love preschool. It's gonna be even more fun than daycare is."

Harriet grabbed a handful of April's hair and predictably pulled it. She'd been doing that since pretty much the day that she could identify it.

"Someone is grumpy this morning." I observed, looking between the two of them.

"Mama! Mama!" Our daughter began to cry out loudly, banging her fists. April didn't hesitate to scoop her up from her chair and cover her face with kisses and raspberries, bouncing her and spinning around the room with her. She whispered something that I couldn't hear and I stepped closer to the two of them with a frown. "Mama!" She continued to cry out, even as she held onto her.

"I think she's hitting the terrible twos pretty hard," I commented with a frown. "She must missing having just the two of us to herself."

"I know," April pouted. "Maybe we should ask your mom and Richard if they'll take the boys for a few hours and have some time with just the three of us. Maybe we can go to the park together. How does that sound, sweetheart? Do you want to go to the park with Mommy and Daddy this weekend?" She prompted.

Harriet didn't give much of an answer, continuing to ball up April's hair between her hands and dropping her head into her shoulder. She's not crying out anymore which is an improvement at least. But the transition from one to three had not been any easier on Harriet than it had been on the two of us, and that was becoming clearer with every passing day. But she was far from forgotten, that much was certain. She was our baby girl. Nothing in the world was going to change that.

"We'll do something this weekend, I'll text my mom about it later." I agreed with a nod of my head and stepped forward to give the both of them a quick kiss on the forehead. "But we've got this all figured out, okay? We've got it. The twins are doing great, Harriet's doing great. And when we're ready, we're going to plan a great wedding for the two of us. Everything's good."

April smiled at me for a moment before she began to speak.

"I know. I know, you're right. And I love you, Jackson." She stretched up to kiss me on the lips.

"I love you too, baby. More than anything else."


	18. Chapter 18

**_ APRIL _ **

"Arizona, I just don't know if I'm going to be up for this. I'm so tired. Twins are just… something else. An entirely different monster." I commented with a shake of my head. "Can't we just do something small?"

It's the first and perhaps the only time that I think I would ever want something small when it came to wedding planning. I'd had a bridal shower before my wedding to Matthew and pretty much all of that had… well, gone to waste. A lot of it returned. This wasn't my first wedding and it technically wasn't even my first to Jackson. Making a big deal out of it seemed like it was silly, but Arizona and Jackson had both been encouraging me to do and plan whatever I wanted.

"April, please!" Arizona grabbed my shoulders, giving me a little shake. "We are going to throw you a proper bachelorette party, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it."

"Well, I can't even drink. I'm breastfeeding two babies, remember?" I countered with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Pump and dump." Meredith chimed in.

"Ha! Pump and dump," Amelia echoed with a loud laugh.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at the both of them. "Don't be so crude. We can just do something small and intimate. I don't want to go out and get wild and have things get out of control."

I'm not trying to be a control freak. Not intentionally, at least. I know that I'm prone to it and when Arizona asked if she could plan the bachelorette party and take one thing off of my hands – after citing all of the kiddos on top of wedding planning, she'd made a convincing case. So I had agreed to be hands-off about it. But I don't want to drink a ton and have things get completely crazy. I'd spiraled out of control once before and now I have even more to lose than I had then. At the time, it hadn't seemed like a big deal. I'd lost my will to care about anything and Harriet would be fine with Jackson, at the end of the day.

But now it's more than just Harriet. There's her, Nathaniel, and Oliver. There's a freshly rekindled love and romance with Jackson that was finally something real and healthy. I don't want to have to lose any of it.

"Small's not such a bad idea," Maggie spoke up this time.

"Thank you," I replied pointedly, looking at Arizona and Meredith with a shake of my head.

"Fine," Arizona gave in. She smiled at the five of us at the table and I realized a bit, leaning back in my chair. She continued to speak about a few different details that she'd already put together and I listened, half-paying attention. Even though I had been back at work for a month now, separation anxiety had not settled down any. It took too much self-control to spend free time with coworkers and not run downstairs to the nursery at every available opportunity.

But the more that I thought about it, the harder that it was not to go downstairs. Especially with full and aching breasts. I sit there for a few moments longer listening to everyone else speak, tapping my fingers on top of my thighs, trying to still myself and failing.

"I'm going to go round on patients," I lied.

Exchanging goodbyes and offering a few smiles, I hurry down to the daycare and greet the workers there. None of them are surprised to see me for the umpteenth time this week, and I go to pick up Nathaniel. Oliver was sleeping peacefully, so there's no point in waking him until after I feed his brother. Even if I've learned to feed the both of them at once, it's a lot easier to do one at a time.

"Hi, buttercup," I murmured affectionately, placing a kiss on top of his growing curls. His hair seemed to be growing a little faster than his twin brother's, making them a bit easier to tell apart. "Are you ready for lunch, hm?"

I get him set up and attached to my nipple, settling comfortably into one of the chairs down there. Nathaniel nor Oliver were fussy eaters, much to my own pleasure. Harriet had been a tougher one to get to attach – likely because she hadn't been able to start breastfeeding as quickly as her brothers from because I was in the hospital for so long after the c-section. I'm not alone for long before the same daughter on my mind runs over toward me.

"Hi, nugget," I greeted her as she hugged me from the side, careful not to dislodge the baby that I'm nursing. "Are you having a good day?"

"Hi, momma," Harriet said, attaching herself to my free arm. "Brother hungry." She observed.

"Mmhm," I twisted my head and neck, kissing her on top of the head. "Do you want to hold your little brother when he's done eating, sweetheart?"

"Yes pwease!"

Her use of manners made my heart soar like any proud mother would, giving her another kiss and snuggling her in closer. Even though we had been worried about her adjusting to the brothers and there had been a few bumps in the road along the way, she was really starting to turn into a sweet big sister.

By the time that Nathaniel had decided that he was done eating for the moment, I paused to quickly fix my bra and shirt. My little girl was already looking up at me expectantly.

"Okay, Harriet, let's get you up in Mommy's chair." I stood up with Nathaniel cradled in my left arm, then squatting down to help lift Harriet up into it with my right. "Okay, sweetheart, do you remember what we've talked about when it comes to holding your brothers? You have to be very, very careful. They're very little and won't be able to play with you for awhile. You have to be nice to them." The paranoia comes out in me. I trust and love Harriet more than anything else in the world, but she's just a toddler. She doesn't always know better.

"Yes, momma."

Bending over carefully, I placed Nathaniel down to Harriet. He mostly rested in her lap, but she held up his head with her hand just like I had taught her to. I made sure that she had him securely before whipping out my phone to take a picture of the two of them.

"There you go, sweetheart. You're such a good big sister." I encouraged her gently. My heart nearly exploded with joy when she placed a messy kiss on Nathaniel's forehead. "So good."

Determined that the two of them were settled for a moment, I grab Oliver so that I could feed him as well. Adjusting my shirt and bra for him, he attached even quicker than his brother did. My sweet little boys. I run my fingers over his barely there curls affectionately, happy to just sit there with my children for a few minutes between the chaos at work.

By the time that I'm done with feeding him, Harriet is begging to hold onto her other little brother, too. I carefully switch the twins with her, burping Nathaniel before putting him back down. I don't get to stay there for much longer before my pager goes off.

"Okay, baby, Mommy needs to get back to work now." I take Oliver from her and get him settled down with his brother before placing a few kisses on Harriet's cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love momma."

Holding the words close to my heart, it keeps my spirits high as I make my way down to the emergency room again, just in time to be greeted with an MVC being brought in. Before long, both me and Owen are upstairs in an O.R. together. It's my happy place. The one that existed besides family and kids.

The balance between surgery and family was certainly a hard one to maintain. I still remember back when I was an intern, wanting something with set hours like neurology or urology. Somehow, I had ended up at the exact opposite extreme. And yet I still had everything that I wanted. Maybe things were a little crazy sometimes, and the lack of sleep occasionally put me in a ridiculously sour mood. But I still wouldn't have it any other way.

"So, how are things going between you and Avery?" Owen prompted me, glancing up for a moment.

"They're good. Really good." I smiled brightly behind my surgical mask. "We… we have everything, you know? The kids, the careers… and now we're finally getting a real wedding. With everyone that we know and love and without having to worry about Catherine Avery swooping in and yelling at the two of us for doing things without her." I can't help but let out a small laugh at the memory.

"That's good," he commented. "And you? How are you doing?"

I glanced up at him for a moment, pausing. "What do you mean?"

"You uh, asked for a therapist recommendation from me a while ago, remember?" Oh. Not the direction that I had expected him to go. But he had always been something like a father to me. I steady myself and give a quick nod of the head.

"It's… it's been good." It took a moment for the words to come out but I meant them. "I mean, things have been crazy lately. But going really helped me work out some things that… I always kind of ran away from." I had used him in a way, going to Jordan. It'd been too convenient. "I guess, you know, looking back? It kind of makes sense. I had to fix myself before I had a chance at really getting things right with Jackson. But now it's all there. Maybe it's not perfect but it's good. I haven't been this happy in a long time." I admitted sheepishly.

"It's nice to see you happy again, April," Owen said sincerely. "I spent a lot of time being worried about you. I'm glad that you and Avery have worked it all out. You were always happiest when you were with him."

I can't help but smile, chewing on my lower lip. I knew what he was saying was true and it went beyond the relationship that me and Jackson had. I'd always been most at ease when I had a good relationship with him – whether it was platonic or romantic.

"I know," I murmured. "What about you? I mean, I may have eavesdropped a little and heard about you looking to foster and adopt. If you need anything, anything at all, you can tell me, you know? A letter of support or– I don't know what all happens in that process. But I'm happy to do whatever I can for you. I know that you'll be a good father." I ramble on a little more than intended, glancing up to see a joyful light in his eyes.

"Thank you, April," Owen spoke. "I'll let you know if there's anything I need. I'm… I'm excited about this. This is what I've always wanted to do."

For a brief moment we make eye contact and I can tell that he's smiling behind his mask too. Then we both refocus on the surgery at hand, fixing up the lacerations to the bowel and other internal organs that had been damaged in the messy crash.

By the time that we're both out of surgery, I'm worn out and starving, and desperately in need of pumping. That was definitely the hardest physical part about coming back to work after having babies – a long surgery meant sore and aching breasts that were just about ready to pop on their own accord. I quickly make my way to the attendings lounge and set up with a pump on each nipple and a blanket for modesty, working through charts at the same time to multitask.

I'm barely halfway through when any sense of privacy is interrupted. Before I can be embarrassed or flustered about it, I realize that it's Jackson. I smile, accepting the kiss that he offered when he bent over toward me.

"My wife and my second favorite pair of twins," Jackson said with a cocky grin.

"Don't be gross," I commented with a shake of my head. "Oh! Take my phone and look at the pictures that I got of Harriet and the boys earlier today. She's so sweet with them now. She's really starting to see them as hers, I think."

Jackson took my phone and I can tell when he sees the pictures with the smile that lights up his face. "She has been doing really well lately," he agreed. "I think spending more one on one time with her has really helped. Now she doesn't seem as interested in time with just us, though."

"Oh, yeah," I laughed and agreed. "She was practically ready to rip Nathaniel off of my breast earlier just to have a chance to hold him."

"I know the look. I'm pretty sure that you've given it to me a few times," he teased.

"Hush. If anyone in this relationship is the possessive one, it's definitely you." I disagreed, pointing to my neck where there were plenty of hickeys barely covered by makeup. "And I have the evidence to prove it."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, handing my phone back to me. "I'm pretty sure that you wanted those just as much as I wanted to give them to you."

"Mm, maybe, but you don't have any proof." I smiled mischievously at him, finishing up with my pumping and adjusting myself so that I'm decent again before labeling the fresh bottles of breastmilk and putting them in the fridge for the moment. "Did you know that Owen's trying to get into adopting a kid? I want to do something for him. Maybe just something small and sweet. He's done a lot for me." I switched the topic, raising my eyebrows at him.

"I'm sure that we can figure out something. Maybe I'll send the stripper at my bachelor party to him." Jackson suggested with a grin. I swatted at his chest playfully, shaking my head.

"I thought we agreed to no strippers." I countered.

"I don't think that conversation actually happened. I thought you were the one who wanted us to have a completely normal wedding experience. For bachelor parties, that means booze and strippers." He pointed out.

I scoffed, barely able to contain my own grin. "You know that's not what I meant. Normal as in… normal."

"So no one standing up and declaring their love for you? 'Cause if so, I might have to go have a talk with Vik." Jackson was still grinning, but the comment grated on my nerves more than it perhaps should have.

"Not. Funny." I enunciated the syllables clearly.

"It's a little funny," he disagreed. Jackson's hands moved to my hips and pulled them in against me, clearly trying to win my favor back over and I fall for it as always. I shake my head at him once more before resting it on his chest, finding the sound of his heart beating quite easily. He continued speaking. "No interns were on the invite list, though, and I don't think he's going to be a plus one." He reminded me.

"I know," I mumbled, chewing on my lower lip briefly. "It's still embarrassing, though. I know that I was spiraling over the edge, but… that was a real low for me. I kind of always thought that you were going to be my one and only, you know?"

Jackson soothed his hand over my back. "I know. But that doesn't matter anymore. If anything, we're a little closer to being even. But even if you weren't my first, you're going to be my last, April. That's what's important here."

Somehow, he always knew the right words to say in my crazy moments. "Thank you," I murmured.

"For what?"

"Dealing with me when I'm crazy," I answered with a slight huff escaping from my lips, pulling back so that I could look at him. "But you're not going to actually have strippers, are you? 'Cause I know that's something that Karev would pull just for laughs and to make me crazy at the same time."

"I promise, no strippers." Jackson smiled at me. "Do I need to ask the same about your bachelorette party?"

"No," I laughed. "I think Arizona is going to pull the gay card on that one. It's just going to be something small. I caught her looking at spa things, so I'm thinking something along those lines. I told her I didn't want anything too crazy when I've got to worry about breastfeeding." I elaborated on. I paused, taking a deep breath. "There's one more sex-slash-wedding thing I want to talk to you about, though." I brought up.

Jackson quirked an eyebrow but nodded for me to continue.

"So, no sex before marriage was supposed to be a big deal for me. Obviously, y'know, three kids later… that fell flat. But… we haven't since the twins were born. And I was thinking that maybe we should just keep going like that. Till the wedding, at least." I offered him a smile even though I could already see the dread in his features. "It's only a few extra weeks, really."

Ultimately, we'd decided to plan the wedding quickly even if we wanted something beautiful and a little more traditional than the first route we had gone down. It was an outdoor reception – Jackson and I had compromised on my pastor as long as it wasn't a church wedding, and the religious parts were kept short. I'd be okay with that. God didn't belong just in a church, after all. He was always inside of me. The reception was going to be held on his yacht. Not having to find a venue last minute had made things tremendously easier.

"I suppose I can live without it. Only because I get to see your boobs all the time lately." Jackson agreed, not missing the opportunity to tease me.

"Breastfeeding is so not sexy," I countered with a shake of my head.

"Everything you do is sexy," he disagreed, leaning down to kiss me.

I returned the kiss for a short moment, placing my hands on his chest. "I'm serious, though. This is something that I want to do. I mean, we've managed to do everything else the right way, so this is just one more thing." I reasoned.

"Whatever you want, baby."

"Thank you."

Jackson's pager went off a moment later and he glanced down it, making a brief face before giving me another quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you after work."

"Sure thing," I watch him leave for a moment, chewing on my lower lip and trying to contain my excitement. Everything in my life certainly seemed like it was working out for the better.

Heading back downstairs to the emergency room, things seemed to be mostly under control for the moment. Of course, saying that out loud would have no doubt jinxed any luck there was. But the cases were menial enough that a resident or intern could deal with it as long as I continued to oversee and no drastic twists or turns came. The end of my shift was nearing anyways.

I pulled out my phone and skimmed through my emails, surprised to see one from Catherine Avery. I clicked on it, reading through it quickly.

_April,_

_The Avery Hospital in Chicago's current Chief of Trauma is going to be stepping down for some personal reasons. After the work that you did there two years ago with reorganizing the trauma department, I'd like you to take this job. Getting Jackson situated as Head of Plastics in Chicago wouldn't be a problem. Let me know if this is something you're interested in._

_CA._

My heart practically skipped a beat in my chest as I read through the brief email, again and again, trying to make sure that I had actually read what she had said correctly. She was offering me a head position. April Kepner, Chief of Trauma Surgery. The words have a good ring to it and I hold my phone to my chest for a minute, taking a deep breath and smiling like a fool. Of course I wanted it! I would be a fool not to take a job opportunity like that. I loved my life in Seattle, my friends, everything that it had brought me. But I knew progress in my career was stalled as long as Owen was in charge of the department, and I wasn't going to wish ill upon him. He was the reason that I was as successful of a surgeon as I am today.

With the news on my mind, the rest of my shift goes by easily. I can't wait to tell Jackson the news. I pick up all three of our kids from daycare, both of the boys in their stroller and Harriet clinging to my head, meeting him downstairs by the entrance of the hospital.

I want the moment of excitement to be shared between just the two of us, though, and keep it to myself for a moment. We get the kids situated in the car and the drive to our house felt surprisingly short given how eager I was to tell him about the offer. I knew in the past he had been sensitive about his mom interfering with our jobs, but this was something good. No strings attached, just a real opportunity for me to succeed. I had to say yes.

When dinner is finally sorted out and all three of the kids are put down to bed for at least a few hours, I can't hold back the information any longer. I pull out my laptop and open the email up on the screen, reading through it once more before handing the device over to him so that he could read it for himself.

"Wow."

"Right?"

I squealed with excitement, practically jumping onto his lap. I pushed the laptop out of the way and placed it down on the nightstand so I could straddle him properly, my hands resting on his shoulders. This was a job that I had always wanted – even if I wouldn't have guessed that it came from Chicago. Location didn't matter that much. As long as it was a big city, there would be plenty of things for me to do and operate on.

"This is huge, Jackson. I mean, it could be years before I would ever get to be head of trauma here. Years. And Chicago? That's a great city! I loved the hospital when I went last year." I rambled on excitedly, a huge grin blown across my features.

"Is this something that you want? I mean, moving to Chicago." Jackson asked, eyebrows raised.

"For a job like this? Absolutely," I answered enthusiastically.

Jackson gave a slight nod of his head. "It's definitely something to consider, then. But what about the wedding?" He asked.

"I mean, we can still have that here," I shrugged. "You know, it doesn't have to be an immediate change. I'm sure that your mom can find someone for the interim. We can get married here, where all of our friends are… then you know, really start a new chapter of our lives together. Somewhere new. I mean, I love this house and Harriet's preschool is great, so… we get married, let her finish out the school year, and then we could move." I suggested, bouncing slightly in his lap. I'm already far too excited about the prospect. His hands ran across my thighs, no doubt trying to calm me down.

"Well, let's not get too ahead of ourselves, okay? There's still a lot to figure out." He reminded me. "It's still moving halfway across the country. That's a big decision. A lot of things to work out."

I furrowed my brows, stilling. "Are you… not okay with this?" I questioned.

"No, no," Jackson disagreed quickly. "That's not what I'm getting at. Not at all. April, I am thrilled for you. But I'm also happy with the life that we have here. That's a big change, you know? Moves are stressful. You got pretty wound up when we moved into this place, remember?"

"I do," I nodded. "But this is still a huge opportunity for me. One that I can't afford to pass up." I reminded him. "And this is probably the last time that I can get an offer like this without someone assuming that it's just because I married into the family. I mean, people are probably going to assume that once I get there anyway, but… this is a big deal for me, Jackson. A huge deal."

"It is." He murmured. "And I am so proud to be marrying such a badass trauma surgeon." Jackson stretched up, kissing me once again. "You will be an amazing head of trauma, Chief Kepner." He grinned a moment, moving to kiss my neck.

"Chief Kepner," I giggled, echoing his words. "I like the sound of that."

"It's very sexy." Jackson agreed.


	19. Chapter 19

**_ JACKSON _ **

I knew that April was an incredibly talented trauma surgeon. It didn't phase me or anyone else in the surgical department that she did most of the work running the emergency room even though Hunt was technically in charge of the department. She was an overachiever and a people pleaser. She would be amazing at any job thrown her way.

Owen, naturally, remained the one who appeared to be superior on paper. He was older and had more experience operating and teaching, including that as chief of surgery temporarily. Not to mention that he had trained and worked as a field surgeon in the U.S. Army and earned himself the rank of Major. Those were the kind of credentials that were hard to argue with, even if he didn't have the same charismatic people skills and organizational abilities that my soon-to-be wife did. Not that I had anything against him, but… yeah, April kind of deserved the head job just as much as he did – if not more, by this point in her career.

Thinking about uprooting our lives was still a major decision, either way.

I was comfortable here. Even if we had both been through hell and back, and Grey Sloan Memorial seemed like some kind of magnet for bad luck and events, it was still home. Seattle was where we had met, where we had fallen in love. Everything had happened here.

There were other memories, too, besides just her. Memories of Percy and Reed were here. Mark's memory was here too, besides the name of the hospital. He had always been the closest thing that I had to a father. Richard played an important role in my life now that he was married to my mom, but Sloan had stepped up to that role in my life without any obligation. I knew that I could never get rid of the memories that he had given me. He was the reason that I was as good of a surgeon as I was, and probably, as good of a father as I was.

My bachelor party was tomorrow which meant that I needed to figure out what exactly I was going to tell them. The only people so far that knew about April's job offer was Owen and Bailey, most for professional reasons than personal ones.

Bailey had encouraged it. That didn't surprise me. She and my mom were often on the same page about things, something that I had already learned when my mom had influenced her with bringing in Eliza Minnick a couple of years ago. Owen, too, had been extremely supportive of her – citing that she more than deserved it. It was hard to disagree with either of what they had said.

But I was still worried about her. I was worried what kind of stress a move might bring on, especially with three children under the age of five. I wondered what the stress, specifically, would do to her.

I knew that she was doing better now. She had been for months – therapy, while she had been pregnant, had helped her tremendously, and I had witnessed first hand the leaps and bounds that had been made in her mental state. I knew that she was happy, too, with the boys here, even if we were both much more stressed than what we had been before. I saw more smiles from her now than I ever had before. She was full of joy and light again, just like the woman that I had fallen in love with. It made it easy to understand how I had fallen in love with her so easily again. She was soft and strong all the same and only proven it all over again by overcoming yet another brutal obstacle that had been thrown in her pathway.

The decision had been made, though. I'd talked to my mom about the extent of the offer, the details and the package that came with. She had guaranteed me a job of my win as Head of Reconstructive Surgery at Gaffney Medical Center. It was a good deal, for the both of us. I wanted to support her career.

It was probably a more sensitive issue for her than it was for me. I remembered vividly when Minnick had been there before the two of us had gone to Montana, the way that she had gone off at me for not supporting or believing in her as a surgeon in the way that she should have. She had been right. I had always seen her just as April, the mother of my children, the love of my life, before I had seen her as the amazing trauma surgeon and emergency medicine doctor that she was.

That was my fault, not hers. A little ironic given that the first time that I had met her had been as a doctor, but everything that I had thought about her the first time that we interacted had been… well, pretty damn wrong. My first impression had been far from the truth.

Now was the time to show her how much I supported her in every way possible. That was a promise and a commitment that I had made to her months ago when we'd been almost completely broken, and one that I had been able to follow through on thus far. Now wasn't the time to ruin it, not when we were less than a week away from being married. Now was the time more than ever to show her how much I loved and supported her.

I was busy working all week and April was busy piecing together the last details of the wedding, and taking care of the kids. We'd decided against bringing them on the honeymoon. Catherine and Webber would be taking care of them, along with who knows which other of our coworkers. We trusted pretty much all of them for childcare.

Pulling into the driveway, it's nearly dark outside which meant my kids were hopefully asleep already. There was no guarantee when it came to the twins and their rather erratic sleep patterns, though.

"Hey," I greeted as I walked in the front door, not raising my voice just in case. I pull the door shut quietly behind me, quickly twisting the lock and dropping my bag and keys down on the table in the entryway.

"Hi." April popped up from the other side of the couch. "I just put the twins down," she warned.

I gave a slight nod of the head, pressing my first finger to my lips to indicate that I would hush. "And Harriet?" I questioned with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Hi, Daddy." Before April had the chance to speak, our daughter perks up and stumbles onto her feet to walk around the couch and greet me. Harriet walked straight into my legs and wrapped her tiny arms around them. I squatted down, scooping her up in both of my arms for a big hug and kissing her on top of the head.

"Hi, sweetheart," I murmured gently. "Are you keeping Mommy up?"

"No!" She yelled, a little louder than necessary. She still didn't quite get the need to be quiet when the twins were sleeping. "Harriet and Momma play." She pointed over to the direction where she had been and I walked around the couch to get a peek.

April had already begun to clean up the mess of blocks and other toys that the two of them had been playing with. "Even though I already told Harriet that it was past her bedtime," she added in with a chime. It was hard to discipline her, really. We both wanted to but giving in had become significantly easier as we worried about her feeling left out of the picture now that she wasn't an only child. Sure, she'd become a sweet older sister. But she could still be a little fussy with both me and April.

"I think it's time for someone to go to bed, sweetheart. But how about one more game, huh?" I suggested, squatting down to place her down where April was picking up the toys. "How about we see who can put the most toys in the bin, huh?" A little encouragement to get her to help clean things back up again so April wasn't doing all the work.

The encouragement is exactly what Harriet needed to start grabbing her toys and tossing them into the bin to put them away again, much to both of our reliefs. She's not big on cleaning up, but labeling it as a game was an easy way to make it happen.

By the time everything is cleaned up again, I scoop Harriet up to put her to sleep for the night since April had been with her all day. She's still in a crib, but I'd pretty much made up my mind that when we moved to Chicago after the wedding, she would be getting a big girl bed of her own. Hopefully, it would only make her better about falling asleep at night instead of any worse.

"Night night, sweetheart," I murmured as I kissed her goodnight. "Sleep tight."

"Good night, Daddy," Harriet mumbled back, staring up at me.

As tempting as it is to stand there and watch her as she fell asleep, I didn't want to break the good sleep cycle that we had managed to establish with her thus far. I turn on the white noise machine and leave her room, pulling the door shut behind me so, with any luck, nothing else would disturb her for the night.

"Hopefully she should stay down for the night," I whispered to April as I joined her in the bedroom.

"Who knows with the twins," she commented with a shake of her head, beginning to change into her pajamas. We had both become a little more modest with sleepwear in the past few weeks, trying to make the chastity vow that she wanted to make easier for the both of us. But her sleep shorts are still pretty short, and she's always had wonderful legs.

Once I've changed into a pair of plaid pants and an old t-shirt, I plop down into the bed next to her. Even if we're not having sex, that doesn't mean I'm keeping my hands off of her entirely.

Moving so that I'm holding myself up with one hand on top of her, I lower myself so that I can kiss her firmly. She's warm and her lips taste like coffee more than anything else, enough that it makes me smile against her mouth. The rest of my body is barely lowered against her, weighing her down slightly but not enough to crush her. It's tempting, but I don't want to make it any harder for the both of us.

After a few minutes of just making out like teenagers, April let out a soft moan and tapped my shoulder, letting me know that it was better for the both of us to go ahead and stop now before it became any harder.

"How annoyed would you be if I got up for a cold shower right now?" I asked, teasing.

She slapped my arm playfully, well earned. "Don't even think about it."

"Too late," I chuckled, grabbing the hand that slapped me and pulling it up to my mouth, littering the back of her knuckles with some chaste kisses.

"Then no spooning for you," April grumbled, turning on her side so that she was facing me. I released her hand and did the same, rolling on my side so that I could look at her more directly.

"You're so mean to me," I whined, scrunching up my nose at her.

April didn't say a word and instead let out a loud yawn, her hazel eyes staring at me for only a brief moment like they fall shut. I'm sure that she could fall asleep on the spot if she wanted to. It's a talent that we've both gotten pretty good at even as the stretches of sleep that the boys were getting became longer and longer. It was a necessary part of the toolbox for any parents with young children.

I stare at her for a brief moment, just admiring her face. She hadn't bothered to do her hair or makeup today, I could tell, but she's still beautiful. A few strands frame her face and fall in front of her neck, and I take a picture of the image with my mind.

But I still do want to talk to her about the job and encourage her to accept the offer. I wanted to do it tonight before I announced what was going on to everyone else at the bachelor party – assuming that she would want to do the same with her bachelorette. Which meant now or in the morning when we're juggling all of the kids. So, now.

"I want you to take the job."

So the announcement is a little sudden and I can't entirely guarantee that she's still awake at the moment, but I make it anyway. She proved to still be awake, lashes fluttering before her eyes open to stare at me, wide-eyed and excitement appearing to sparkle in the magnificent hues almost immediately upon her comprehension.

"Really? You want me to take the job?" April echoed for confirmation.

I gave a quick nod of my head. "I do."

She scooted herself toward me and planted another firm kiss on my mouth. "Thank you."

"Don't," I disagreed quickly with a shake of my head. "I promised you a long time ago that I was going to be here for you every step of the way, no matter what was going on. This is me keeping good on that promise to you. You deserve the job. You've been working your ass off here for years and haven't gotten the recognition that you deserve. You deserve better than that. So we'll move to Chicago and freeze our asses off during the winter. But hey, at least there might be a chance of a little more sunshine since someone I know could use the color." I grinned at her, unable to keep the tease at my words. Every word coming from my mouth was genuine – I wanted this for her. I wanted her to be happy and recognized by more than just me or my mom. Everyone should have seen her for the powerful and gritty trauma surgeon that she is.

"Thank you," April repeated the same word, reaching out and placing her hand on my cheek. I covered up hers with my own, taking a deep breath and smiling at her.

"I'm proud of you, April. You know that, don't you?" I questioned, brows furrowing with a degree of seriousness.

A bit predictably, she falls quiet and gives a slight shrug of her shoulders, modest as always.

"I am. I am proud of you. You've been through so much and yet… you're still here. You're an amazing mother, April. The way that you are with our kids… You told me once that you knew that I was a good father because you'd had one your whole life. Well, I had a strong mother my entire life. And because of that, I know that you are one, too. But I love that you're more than that, too. I love how passionate you are about your work, the fact that you're one of the best surgeons that I know and that you have an amazing technique. I know that you've earned that promotion. That you deserve it, and that it has nothing to do with the fact that it's being offered by my mother."

I fall quiet for a moment to let her process the words that I'm saying, and her gaze had become a little starry from the tears that were now sparkling along the edges of her eyelids. I give her hand a small squeeze, not intending to overwhelm her, but glad to see that she's taking my words for their value and not just brushing them off.

"I know that I'm a good mom, but," April paused and sniffled, steadying herself before continuing. "I'm kind of used to everyone undermining me as a surgeon. I guess just because it's been happening from day one and no one has ever.. really argued against it, as far as I know." She chewed at her lower lip. "It's kind of easy to get that stuck in my head. Especially when all of that stuff with Minnick happened and everyone acted like me temporarily being in charge of general was the worst thing in the world as if there was no way I could possibly run a service."

"I know. I'm sorry that we were like that," I apologized for the group of us. I knew that the others have. "You didn't deserve that." I insisted firmly. "You're probably more capable than most of us at running a department, to be honest. We were being petty. All of us."

"Yeah, you kind of were," she laughed out the agreement. "But I forgive you. I forgave you all a long time ago, actually. I can't walk around being bitter." She tugged my hand toward her, rubbing her thumb along my knuckles. "Well, I could. But… that's kind of how Dr. Party or The Hangover or whatever all of those interns were calling me, that's how she came about. And I don't want to be that person. It took me a long time to like myself and I do now. I like me. I don't like that person, though."

"I didn't like her much either," I admitted with a shrug of one shoulder. "But I like you a lot."

April beamed at me. "I know."

"Oh, do you?" I questioned lightly with a raise of my brows. "Or are you just Star Wars-ing me?"

"Both." She answered, grinning so hard that her singular dimple appeared.

Not needing to say much more on the matter, I snuggled closer to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. She turned over so that her back was against my chest and we could spoon each other properly, taking advantage of the warmth that one another had to offer each other.

I couldn't help but think about the words a little more, glad to get them off my chest. Maybe they were something that I should have saved for my vows, but she had opted to go the traditional route when it came to them, so it would have to be saved for speeches and conversation on the night of our wedding. There was an endless list of things that I could say, ways that I could tell her I love her, details of her that I could dote on all day long. No matter what our history might have said, what had happened between us in the past, I loved her with every ounce of my existence.

It's easy to fall asleep laying next to one each other, making up for the time that we didn't get to, for all of the time that we had wasted with petty fights and arguments.

The boys do wake us up in the middle of the night, predictably. Three times. Not terrible but not great, either. She gets up twice and I do once, trying to balance out for the fact that I would have a long day at work and she would have a long day with the kids. It's debatable which one of us really had the better chance of getting a nap throughout the day.

When my alarm goes off for work in the morning, April is already up and out of the bed, in the shower if the sounds coming from the bathroom is anything to go by. I wish that I could join her, but instead, I get up to get a head start on the kids while she's indisposed.

Like most mornings in our household, everything is a discreet balance of chaos.

But eventually, I'm off to work and dealing with my day. I'm trying to get ahead of things in the burn unit so there wouldn't be anything to worry about while the two of us are on our honeymoon and none of the residents should have any difficulty dealing with it. To my own luck, there's not a lot going on in the hospital to pull me away from it.

The day does seem to drag on a little bit, though. Most days were like that the closer the two got to the wedding. I was excited to be married to her again. I was sure that she had done a fantastic job when it came to planning things out and I'd heard about everything that she dreamed of – seen a little bit of it, too, when it came to the time that she had almost married Matthew. I was curious to see how all of it would turn out preciously given that I knew she was unlikely to want to repeat anything from that wedding besides having everyone that she loved there.

"Hey, you ready for tonight?" Karev greeted me with a clap on the shoulder.

"Yeah," I breathed out with a nod of the head.

"Kepner's going to go crazy when she sees some of the photos that are going to be taken." He said, a cocky grin spreading across his cheeks. Who knew what had really been planned for tonight. Sure, he wasn't quite as wild as he had been when we'd first met, but he was the most adventurous out of all the guys here.

"Well, you know, as long as there are no strippers…" I trailed off, shrugging a shoulder.

He offered a laugh. "Well, you're not the one who really needs one anymore, anyway."

"What, you gonna hire one for Hunt?" I raised my eyebrows.

"He could probably use one," Karev snorted. "Pretty sure he's still a little bitter than Carina decided she preferred Robbins over him."

Yeah, everyone had pretty much heard about the short thing between the two of them in one way or another. Turned out the younger of the Deluca siblings was pretty vocal about his frustrations with his sister's sex life.

"God, yeah. Arizona decided to tell April every single detail of their sex life, and then April decides to tell me all about it. All the meanwhile, she's decided a few weeks ago that the two of us aren't going to have sex until we're married ago." I spilled the details without thinking too much about them. If there was anyone who would get it, well, it's him. He knew April pretty well, too.

"Hey, you can always tell her to start talking about that stuff with me," Alex smirked. "I've never minded a little girl on girl acting."

I let out a slight laugh. "Yeah, not surprised. Pretty sure that she's going to scratch your eyes out first."

Alex shrugged. "Hey, I'm throwing her husband a pretty good bachelor party. She can't be mad at me."

"Good luck with that," I commented. "But as long as you're paying for the beer, I don't care what all happens." I gave him a grin, knowing the comment would irritate him.

"I'm pretty sure you're the last person out of all of us who needs someone paying for your drinks," he commented. "You're having your wedding reception on a big ass yacht and you don't even have to pay for it, 'cause it's your own boat. I think you'll be good."

I can't exactly argue with that.

The reception on the yacht had made a lot of things easier when it came to planning the wedding and I knew that April was grateful for that much. Personally, I was pretty excited about it myself. I hadn't gotten a ton of usage out of the boat and wanted to prove that it was actually more than just a frugal purchase to her and everyone else.

"I'll see you tonight, alright?" I patted his shoulder back, shutting the binder that I was currently scribbling my way through.

A bachelor party was something that I hadn't been a part of in – well, a pretty long time. At least a decade ago. I'd never had one of mine own and admittedly, I was a little excited about the traditional event leading up to our wedding. Even if there wasn't going to be strippers and complete craziness, it was nice to hang out with people outside of work for things that didn't involve children. We didn't always have a lot of chances to get together, just from the nature of our work.

I'm pretty sure that tomorrow morning I'm going to be waking up to a combination of crying babies and a hangover that was probably regrettable.

But when I share the news about April's job offer as Head of Trauma Surgery in Chicago, and that the two of us had decided to take the opportunity and would be moving there in a couple of weeks once we organized it, everyone's celebratory. All of them thought that it was a good idea and Hunt especially was pleased to hear that she had decided to take it. Seeing them celebrate her success as an individual, as well as the wedding that we have this coming weekend, is enough to reassure me that my life really was going down the right path.


	20. Chapter 20

**_ APRIL _ **

"How's everything going in here?"

My mom's cheery voice drew my gaze away from my reflection in the mirror and to the door of my bathroom. Arizona, my maid of honor, my trusted hairdresser, Sheila, and the wedding photographer were all here with me to help me get ready for the wedding today.

I had woken up at a decent but not too early hour, going to the nail salon and getting a manicure and pedicure, no doubt making my skin extra soft for tonight. Arizona had come over shortly over and it had been her job to talk my ear off and keep me from stressing about my endless list of things that needed to be done and taken care of before the end of the day. She was doing a good job of it thus far, but now that my mother was here, that was likely to change.

"Very good," Sheila commented as she pinned another curl of hair delicately.

"Hi Mom," I greeted, smiling through the mirror.

"Oh, baby, you look even more beautiful than the last time." My mom squealed, coming up behind me to stand next to Sheila for a moment. I don't think twice about the comment that she's made, for once in my life.

"You look gorgeous, Mom." I returned the compliment, straightening up my back for a moment, remembering too many times how often she had criticized me for poor posture when I had been growing up.

Arizona smiled at the both of us, placing a hand on my mom's shoulder and smoothing out a strand of hair. "Kepner women have extraordinarily good genes." She commented.

"So do Robbins' women," I added quickly. "You should get dressed soon. Sheila's almost done with my hair and I'm going to need help getting into my dress." The blonde nodded, stepping out presumably to go change into her bridesmaid dress in another room of the house.

"Where are my beautiful grand-babies? I was hoping to get to see them before the wedding." Mom asked.

"Catherine has them. She insisted on taking them out of me and Jackson's hands for the night before and day of so we'd be well-rested. I think she just wanted to get Harriet ready herself." I explained with a grin. "But I have pictures of their outfits if you want to see."

Even if me and my soon-to-be again mother-in-law hadn't always gotten along on personal matters, we had our bumps in the road, but the two of us had become closer since Jackson and I had worked things out again. And, well, since the twins had been born. Babies had a magical way of bringing people together again.

I picked up my phone off of the counter and pulled up the photos of my three children in their different outfits, handing it over to my mother so that she could scroll through them herself. I was proud of the outfits, particularly Harriet's little princess dress that she had been all too happy to try on when we found it. The only difficulty had been getting her to agree to take it off.

"You have the cutest little babies, April," Sheila commented, placing her hands on my shoulder. "And your hair is all done. You are a beautiful bride."

"Thank you, Sheila," I smiled.

Standing up from the chair that I had been seated in for at least the past hour, I finally turned around and gave my mom a hug to greet her. She squeezed me tight.

My mom had certainly been surprised when we had announced the engagement to her. I knew that she was happy because it meant that Harriet, Oliver, and Nathaniel were going to have married parents who loved each other more than almost anything else in the world. She had never fully accepted the divorce between the two of us because of the timing of my pregnancy with Harriet. We had fought and disagreed over it. But it turned out she was right.

I couldn't have been more grateful for that.

"I am so proud of you, April." My mom complimented me affectionately as she pulled back from the embrace, and I can tell from the content smile on her face that she meant the words.

"Thank you, Mom," I smiled back at her, trying to keep the tears out of my gaze. I didn't want to get too emotional, not this early in the day. But her words did mean the world to me, no matter how old or grown I became. She was the woman who taught me everything I knew about being a human being, about being a good woman. I wanted to reflect that.

Arizona walked in a moment later, impeccable timing. "Are we ready to get you in your dress?" She squealed.

The dress that the two of us had picked out for this wedding was a beautiful Stella York, much fancier than what I had picked for either first wedding. It was a dress that came straight out of dreams, lace, and tulle, the sweetheart bodice covered in sparkling jewels that drew attention. Harriet had loved that in particular. The skirt of it was quite billowing and large, though, which was the obstacle when it came to getting into it.

"Yeah, I think we are," I agreed, blinking a few times and pushing back my emotions.

My mom pulled the dress off of the rack that it was hanging on and I slipped the robe that I had been wearing off my shoulders. Nothing sexy was going under the dress – just nude underwear that wouldn't be seen. Jackson would get a little surprise after.

Both my mom and Arizona help me slide into the dress, and I'm relieved when it zipped up easily along the back. I had admittedly put some effort into losing weight after the twins just because I had gained more with the both of them than I had with Harriet. The only good thing about working so much and always being on my feet was that it made for it to be that much easier to get it all taken care of. My breasts are still a little larger from breastfeeding, but once I'm in the dress, I can't complain about that.

"Wow." Mom breathed out, running her hand along the pattern of jewels and lace that thinly covered my back. "This is beautiful, April. You're the most beautiful bride, baby."

"You are," Arizona echoed in agreement.

"Thank you both," I murmured sincerely, reaching back to take one hand from the each of it and squeezing softly. "And thank you for being here," I added.

"Oh! I almost forget." The blonde squealed suddenly, letting go of me.

I turned slightly to face her, careful of the layers of the skirt of my wedding dress. She shuffled through her purse, clearly searching for something. I watched with raised eyebrows until she finally let out a satisfied noise, holding up a small box.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Something borrowed," Arizona answered. "Close your eyes."

I listened to her, shutting my eyes for a moment and waiting. I quickly realized that she was putting earrings on me and the corners of my mouth tugged up into another smile. They were a little heavier than what I was used to wearing, but I didn't mind. Today was the day for going above and beyond when it came to appearances.

"Alright, now open them." Following instructions once more, I open my eyes and turn around to catch a glimpse of my reflection. Dangling earrings are there now, matching the jewels along the bodice of my wedding dress.

"Oh, Arizona, these are perfect." I turned back toward her, pulling her for a squeeze and listening to the sound of the camera from the photographer clicking to capture the moments occurring. "They're so beautiful. Thank you." I expressed sincerely, giving once more extra squeeze before I pulled away.

Grabbing my kitten heels from the cabinet, I carefully sit down once more and slide my feet into them. I'd gone for comfortable, nude heels. It was an outdoor wedding, after all, a beautiful field in Washington Park's Arboretum. Luck had smiled upon me today when it came to the weather actually being pleasant, a little cloudy, but there was no threat of rain today. That was all that I could ask for and more.

"Are you ready to get going?" Mom asked.

"I am."

Making sure that I had absolutely everything that I could have needed and no doubt more, I follow my mom and Arizona out of the house and to the car. I'm incredibly careful of the skirt of the dress, not wanting to risk messing up any part of the dress.

My mom drives and she puts on the CD that I had made for myself today, music that was a combination of keeping me calm for the big event and reminding myself of all of the love that was there between me and Jackson. Some of it's a little cheesy, like the Elvis Presley song that I had thrown in. But it does its job. I'm surprisingly calm, even with the butterflies in my stomach.

There's a tent set up for me and the other bridesmaids. When I step inside, Amelia complimented me immediately. It was only her and Arizona that would be standing up there with me for today, opting to keep it small. Jackson would have Ben and Alex standing with him.

Catherine was there too, fortunately with all of my children in tow. I smile seeing all of them dressed up and looking beautiful, glad they hadn't been too much for her to handle.

"Hi, Catherine," I greeted with a smile. "They weren't too much, were they?" I asked.

"Not at all," she shook her head. "You know I love my grand-babies."

"It looks like we do have something in common, then." My mom stepped in, greeting Catherine with a smile. "It's nice to see you again."

Pulling my attention away from my mom and mother-in-law interacting and potentially having to mediate between the two of them, Harriet runs over, practically plowing straight into me and only slowed by the layers of my dress.

"Hi, baby," I squat down to her, giving her a quick kiss and then rubbing off the lipstick I left. "You look so pretty."

"Momma, you a princess!" Harriet yelled.

"So do you, ladybug." I beamed. "You look just like Princess Tiana." Of course, Catherine had her hair done just like Princess Tiana – that was exactly what Harriet had wanted, even if I have vetoed having a green dress for my little flower girl. But she did have an imitative tiara on. "Alright, let me go get a look at your brothers. Stay right here, little miss."

Both of the twins were in a travel playpen, toys carefully picked out to ensure that there was no destruction of their little suits. They were both dressed in little button downs and black pants and vests, looking dapper as ever.

"Hi, babies," I kissed each of them on top of their head. Neither of them paid much attention.

We had wanted our kids as possibly involved in the wedding, as was reasonable given their ages. Harriet was our flower girl, of course. One of my nephews would be pulling the twins down the makeshift aisle in a little red wagon, as our two little ring bearers.

I spend every waiting minute with my children, knowing that I was going to miss the life out of them while the two of us were on our honeymoon. Of course, the break would be nice. We could sleep and be naked without any worry about any interruption, our time would be our own. But, they would be missed all the same. They were, after all, the most important part of our lives.

But the time to sit around and wait before the ceremony started was not very long. I wanted to peak out and watch my babies but depended on the wedding photographer to see those particular moments. The nerves were coming back, I could feel them making me unsteady, but I knew this was still what I wanted. Jackson was the man that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and I was determined that we were going to do it right this time.

"Are you ready?" My dad asked, patting my hand gently.

"I am," I answered without hesitation, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

I take a few deep breaths and hook elbows with my father. We had already sat and prayed together, as a group, before the ceremony had started. Now all of my children had gone out and both members of my bridal party, my mother, which meant that the only thing left was for me to go.

When the right music plays, we finally walk out of the tent and begin to walk down the aisle. Everyone had stood up and turned around to face me, and I couldn't help but let a smile blow across my cheeks as I recognized all the familiar faces. Most of the surgical staff had shown up, Owen and Bailey, Meredith and Maggie, Jo. Some of the scrub nurses were there, too. My entire family had flown out, and even Betsy had come to support me. Everyone that cared about me was here.

But the people in the audience aren't the people who hold my gaze. No, that was Jackson.

Magnificently beautiful eyes stared at me with absolute awe as I slowly walked down the aisle with my father, and I could see the tears just beginning to sparkle in his gaze. His mouth was hanging open, staring at me. When we finally made eye contact, Jackson finally beamed, covering his mouth for a moment.

I had seen plenty of emotional, even sappy, videos of what grooms looked like when they saw their bride walking down the aisle. This seemed to be one of those moments, the emotion clear on his face when he had always been so good at hiding what was going on inside of his head. But right now, I could read Jackson plain as day. He thought that I was beautiful. He loved me.

Alex patted his back and said something that I couldn't quite here, but whatever it was, a tear slipped from his gaze. I could feel my own swelling up in my eyes but I kept the smile on y face regardless of the sea of emotion washing over me. I had felt joy before. I had felt it when Harriet was born despite the circumstances, I had felt it when he had proposed to me, I had felt it when the twins had been born. And now I felt it again, stronger than ever before, seeping into my every pore and overwhelming me with a feeling of pure euphoria.

"Hi." It's the only word that I could muster out when I finally reach him.

"You look amazing," Jackson whispered.

I'm speechless. It's a rare anomaly for me, but the only thing that I could do was smile at him, unable to find the words to even begin to express everything going on in my mind at the moment.

The priest started the ceremony, fortunately, so I don't have to focus on finding something to say. He spoke to the power of love and on the beauty of marriage, a few vague allusions to the Bible, but nothing so blatant that it would bother Jackson to have it included.

"Do you, Jackson Avery, take this woman, April Kepner, as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?" He asked.

"I do," Jackson answered without hesitation, beaming at me.

"Do you, April Kepner, take this man, Jackson Avery, as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?" The priest turned to me.

"I do," I replied, emotion cracking at my voice.

The priest blessed the both of us.

"May the Lord in His goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with His blessings. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder." He announced.

The priest then blessed the wedding rings as symbols of deep faith and peace.

Camera shutters go off as Jackson and I exchanged the rings, my hands unintentionally shaking as I slipped the ring onto one of his fingers. It shook even more as I held my hand out for him and he slipped the gorgeous diamond onto my ring finger, taking a deep breath and looking up at him with all of the joy and love that I could muster.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Jackson bent down to meet me with a hard kiss, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me into him. My hands come up to cup his face as our lips meet passionately, doing our best to try and keep it rather tame with the audience witnessing it. I can't help but smile against his mouth as I clung to him, bumping mouths just a little messily, too caught up in smiling like a fool to kiss him properly.

People hooped and hollered celebratory for us and we finally break away from the contact, both beaming and he pulled me in by his side as we faced the group of people cheering us on.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Dr. Avery." He whispered, pressing another kiss to my temple.

"Congratulations, Mr. Dr. Kepner," I replied back teasingly.

The two of us walk back down the aisle side by side, and I couldn't keep the large smile off of our face. This was the way that I had always wanted to do it – a big, traditional wedding with the two of us, and everyone else that we loved. Even if everything else had been a mess, three children already and this being the second marriage between the two of us… but it was going to work. We had figured our crap out. We loved each other. Everything else was going to fall right back into place this time.

Our wedding reception was being held on his yacht, and photos had been arranged for the in-between along with the kiddos. It's a little messy getting all of it done and organized between the kids and the rest of the bridal party, but it gets done without any screaming children.

Jackson drove the two of us over to the reception, and I'm a little more nitpicky than I should be, taking advantage of the mirror in the car to touch up my hair and makeup, using a matte wipe to make sure that I don't look oily. I knew that the photos certainly hadn't stopped with the ceremony or the photo shoot that had followed.

The cocktail hour was likely to be near the end by the time that we finally get over there, and I'm starving. The emcee introduced us so we could make our grand entrance and I couldn't help but blush as people clapped and applauded for us.

I had a lot of worries about all of this, what people would think about the two of us getting married again after everything that we had been through. The divorce and the weeks that had followed had been on the messy end and unfortunately, most of our coworkers had been witness to all of that. But all of it had still managed to come together after all. It turned out, most people had just been sitting around and waiting for the two of us to sort our crap out and get back together again. Hearing that had made me feel really good.

_Loneliness has always been a friend of mine_  
I'm leavin' my life in your hands  
People say I'm crazy and that I am blind  
Risking it all in a glance  
And how you got me blind is still a mystery  
I can't get you out of my head  
I don't care what is written in your history  
As long as you're here with me 

The cover of the Backstreet Boys song, this time done by Sleeping at Last, began to play over the speakers for our first dance. We join hands and I find myself lost between the loving gaze of his eyes and the peaceful sounds of the piano and voice singing, swinging alongside him and across the dance floor. All eyes and cameras were pointed at the two of us.

_I don't care who you are_  
Where you're from, what you did  
As long as you love me  
Who you are, where you're from, what you did  
As long as you love me 

Normally such an audience would have me nervous, but at the moment, all of it's perfect. The lyrics represent us, the ups and downs that our relationship had been through, the way that it seemed like everyone around us had known we were meant to work it out when even we hadn't been able to see it for ourselves.

_Every little thing that you've said and done_  
Feels like it's deep within me  
Doesn't really matter if you're on the run  
It seems like we're meant to be 

"I love you," I whispered, just loud enough that he would be able to hear it.

_I don't care who you are_  
Where you're from, what you did  
As long as you love me  
Who you are, where you're from, what you did  
As long as you love me 

"I love you too," Jackson murmured. "And I am so proud to have you as my wife again."

"No secret marriage bubble this time," I giggled. "Everyone gets to be here and celebrate us."

"No Mom flying in to yell at us, either." He chuckled.

"That is a big bonus." I agreed.

_I've tried to hide it so that no one knows_  
But I guess it shows  
When you look into my eyes  
What you did and where you're coming from  
Well I don't care, as long as you love me  
As long as you love me 

As the chorus of the song repeated itself for its final verse, Jackson pulled me in against his chest and quietly sung the remainder of it. He doesn't sing a lot. Hums to himself, sometimes, but doesn't properly sing. The only time that he made an exception was for me and this was another one of those moments. Having it here, at our wedding, only made my heart swell with joy.

When the song finally came to an end, he gave me another soft kiss and everyone clapped for us. I smile at him for a moment and give him a nod, encouraging him to address the group.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming out to celebrate tonight with us," Jackson spoke up. He didn't like public speaking, but he was good at commanding a presence. "And thank you, more importantly, for no one deciding to serve karma and stand up in the middle of the ceremony." He added for good measure, earning a few chuckles out of the audience. "I think that you all know by now just how much I love April. We've known each other for years, loved each other for years. We appreciate everyone supporting us as we tie the knot again, and bearing with us through all the ups and downs. Here's to many, many ups."

More applause followed suit and I hugged his arm before the two of us move to sit down at our own table. Catherine got up to speak next, giving a short little blessing before we all dig into the catered meals.

A few more speeches and toasts follow before everyone's up and on the dance floor. We both get passed around our coworkers and loved ones from song after song, making conversation.

I'm happy for the blessings I get, feeling incredibly lucky to have so many people supporting me and not judging. I knew that I had been obsessive about the worry that I felt. I still was, to an extent. But every time someone says that they're happy to see us together, happy that we managed to work it out, it takes off a little piece of the worry.

"I'm going to miss you when you two go to Chicago, you know," Owen said with a soft smile as we danced.

"I know," I nodded. "I'll miss you too. I'm only going to be able to run that E.R. because of you."

Owen huffed, shaking his head in disagreement. "No, that's all you, April. You've been running our E.R. practically since before you were board certified. You never needed anyone to tell you how to do the job. You just figured out how to do it yourself and dived straight in. It's why you're so good at everything you do." He praised.

"Thank you," I murmured, blushing as he spun me around.

"You deserve the job," he smiled. "And I'm glad that you're taking it."

Eventually, Jackson and I cut the cake together, a delicious, zesty lemon cake. Of course, that's when the kids take all of the attention. Harriet is the one who pushed it into her father's face instead of me and everyone bursts out laughing, myself and Jackson very much included. The boys are too young to enjoy but I let each of them suck a little of the frosting off of my finger.

Time managed to fly by for the remainder of the night and the celebration and before I know it, the two of us are being ushered out and toward the car painted with Just Married signs on it. Rice is thrown with cheering laughter and we cling to each other, our own laughter filling the air with the crowds. Our children and parents both get another kiss goodbye before we get into the backseat of the limo together, snuggled up together when the driver finally starts the car.

"We're married." I sang, picking up our intertwined hands and kissing the back of his knuckles.

"Yes, yes we are."


	21. Chapter 21

**_ JACKSON _ **

Mountain Home Lodge in Leavenworth was where we decided to take our honeymoon.

April hadn't wanted to go anywhere too far away or exotic without the kids in tow and even that we had both decided to have some adult time alone, it had shrunk the list of options down. Leavenworth was a small town in the mountains, but the Mountain Home Lodge was a highly recommended location. It was beautiful nature and a small, German-styled town. The weather was surprisingly beautiful on the drive over. It was only a two and a half hour drive, part of the length due to it being less than direct from the Wenatchee National Forest.

It was a luxurious, intimate log cabin that we were staying in, resting on ridges with breathtaking views of the surrounding mountains. A comfortable king-size bed with a roaring, wood-burning fireplace, as well as a river rock Jacuzzis and private balcony. April had quickly fallen in love with at first sight. Seeing her light up with a smile like that had reminded me it was all worth it.

She had also been thrilled about the fact that one of the resorts "concierges" was a yellow lab named Millie.

"I think all hotels would be infinitely better if they had dogs out front," April commented, her arm hooked around one of mine as we walked from the car out to the private cabin. The cool night air whipped around us, making me eager in more than one way to get inside. "You know I've always wanted one."

"Makes sense, you grew up with them," I commented with a slight shrug, moving to unlock the door. "But if you're serious about getting a dog, I think we should wait till the twins are a bit older. Just because we're busy enough at the moment."

"Let's revisit in a year." She commented, stepping in the place.

I grabbed both of our bags, slinging one onto each shoulder and letting her take a look around. It was just as beautiful as the photos had demonstrated, and it was quiet, peaceful, away from the other guests. No having to worry about any of them keeping us up, or more than likely, the vice versa.

"Wow, I love it," April breathed out, spinning around. "It's beautiful."

"It's supposed to be. That was kind of the point," I reminded her with a small grin. "They set us up with complimentary packs for hiking and whatnot, too. You used to talk about wanting to do more of that kind of stuff, back when we were residents and didn't have the time."

"Yeah, I did." She looked pleasantly surprised that I remembered. I had always paid attention to her, though, even when she didn't realize it. "I looked at some of the hikes. I want to go hiking tomorrow."

"Assuming that you're not going to be too sore," I grinned at her.

"Oh, are you planning on making it impossible for me to walk tomorrow?" April retorted, tilting her head slightly and her eyebrows raising up into her forehead.

I gave a shrug, grinning down at her. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it." My eyes swept over my wife's frame, stepping toward her and placing my hands on her hips so that I could pull her in against me. She's tiny and warm, the same as she had always been, and I'd missed the living hell out of our sex life in the past couple of months. It was hard to sleep next to her and do nothing.

"Hidden Lake is an easy hike, apparently," she wrapped her arms around my neck and I bent down to accommodate her further. "Maybe I'll just catch a piggyback ride with my husband," she suggested.

"You must have a very accommodating husband to depend on that," I grinned, kissing her nose.

"I do. I think you'd like him a lot." April chuckled.

"I don't think he's going to like what I'm about to do to you," I hummed, hands moving from the curves of her hips to that of her rear, giving the ample curve a gentle squeeze. Even if she had moments of insecurity about her body after birth, I thought she was the sexiest she had ever been.

April doesn't give a verbal reply, tipping up her chin and capturing my lips against hers in a soft kiss. My lips part open for hers instantly so I can get a better taste of her, champagne and coffee from the Starbucks that we'd stopped at during the drive over. Just a hint of the muffin that she'd had, too. It's an amusing combination but she's still sweet in the way that was distinguishably April.

Deepening the kiss, it's tempting to just take her right there, to get out all of the pent-up sexual frustration between the two of us. But I wanted to make this just as sweet as the first time, as that night in the cabin right before we'd married, I want to give her a night to remember. I want to make sure that she got absolutely everything that she wished for and more out of tonight, to remind her of the marriage that we were going to have, to give her an idea of the fact that the best of our years are still to come. I would give her everything that I could and more.

Eventually, she makes a noise indicating to stop, and I break the kiss, resting my forehead against hers. She patted her hands on my chest for a moment, letting out a cute little sigh.

"Not like this," she commented. "I want to change clothes."

"I think you look hot just like this." After the wedding, April had changed out of the dress and into a pair of black leggings and a t-shirt. She's simple, though still had on all of the makeup from the reception, her hair now in bouncing curls from pulling it down from the fanciful up-do. She didn't need any of it for me to find her anything short of sexy. She was, all on her own.

"Whatever you say," I murmured with a slight nod of the head. I steal one more kiss from her lips before handing over her duffel bag stepping back to let her go.

When she busied herself in the bathroom, I began to unpack a bit of my own bag, hanging up a few things and leaving some hangers empty for her. Maybe it's a little unnecessary given our days would be mostly spent in the nude or seclusion, but I like to look nice for her.

Taking off my shoes and jacket, I go ahead and strip down to just my boxers. Even if I plan on making tonight all about her, I might as well get a few layers out of the way.

After what felt like forever, the bathroom door finally opened up and revealed my wife on the other side.

April was standing there looking like nothing short of an ethereal goddess. I had seen her naked and dressed in lingerie many, many times… but she had gone above and beyond for this particular night. It shouldn't have been a surprise and yet I still freeze, drooling at her. It was sheer white lace that barely left anything to the imagination, along with lacy boy shorts that covered the scar from Harriet's c-section – her decision, definitely, I knew how she felt about it. Her hair was half in front of her shoulders which seemed to conceal more of her skin than the actual lingerie did.

"Wow," I breathed out, at a loss for what else to say.

"You like it?" She grinned at me.

"Baby, I love it." I took a few slow steps toward her, openly staring at every soft curve of her body. "But I think I'm going to like taking it off even more."

Soft hands on my chest and stomach grab my attention for a moment as she ran over the defined muscles, and I take a moment to notice just how pale her skin looks against mine. She's soft as ever, no doubt lathered up in lotion.

"I want to make love to you, baby."

The feel of her lips on mine was one of the greatest feelings I had ever felt. I could spend all day long kissing her and appreciating her body. I wrapped my hands around her thighs and lifted her up, her legs wrapping around me. She offers no resistance, letting out a small moan as she allows my tongue in and welcomed it with her own. Fuck, she tasted good.

But kissing her had always been something more than just the physical sensations and the sweet taste that she had. It's as if the two of us were exchanging every ounce of our love for each other, allowing it to flow through our bodies as we kissed each other. It was all about forgetting the rest of the world and just remembering and focusing on what was important between the two of us: the miles and miles of loves that filed and expanded us, that bettered the both of us.

When we finally pull away from air, April was staring at me with large eyes. She was taking slow, deep breaths. Even if her freckles were covered by makeup, on her face at least, I could still imagine exactly where they were supposed to be placed.

Leaning forward again, this time I don't go for her lips, but instead I peppered kisses across her cheeks and nose where they should have been. Then I focus on the edge of her jawline and the slope of her neck, sucking and licking at the skin gently, making sure that I leave my mark against the porcelain skin so no one that we ran into would doubt the fact that the two of us were honeymooners.

"Lay back and relax," I encouraged her. April followed the suggestion, spreading out across the king size bed. It's like she's waiting to be debauched, and the sight is enough to send blood rushing to my cock.

I slowly get onto the bed next to her, starting with pulling the lace panties down the length of her legs. I left her there for a brief moment, enjoying her sudden state of helplessness, eying her heaving chest and face burning with expectation. I left the top bit of the lingerie on, enjoying the site of it. I can already see that there's a slight glisten between her thighs. She's just as impatient as I am and I love her all the more for it.

I reached up to gently squeeze and fondle her breasts, still heavy from breastfeeding, extracting soft moans from her. It doesn't take long for her speaking ability to disappear.

My hands trailed down her curves for a moment to find her thighs, pushing them open and making room for myself as I lowered down between them. Leaving a trail of kisses on her toned belly before you arrive at her inner thighs, she gave a little squirm of her hips, clearly seeking out more. I don't give her exactly what she wants yet, instead, some kisses to her warm flesh, enjoying the almost silky feeling as I teased her.

"Jackson, please…" April begged.

Of course, resisting her was something I had never been good at.

I dove straight in, showing no mercy as I finally pushed your tongue inside her, enjoying the overwhelmingly sweet taste of her juices that. I took my time with her, allowing my tongue to swirl around, exploring the warm as I pleasured her. April was completely lost in the sensation, grabbing a hold of my head as she cried out loudly for me. Without any neighbors to worry about complaining, I intend to make her as noisy as possible. It's just as euphoric for me as it is for her.

Stroking my tongue a couple of times up and down, I begin to focus on her clit, knowing it's what will get her off. April cried out when I gently nibbled on it, taking it between my teeth and tugging it around gently, careful not to overdo it. Glancing up at her, I can see her cheeks were nearly as red as her hair. I pushed one finger inside of her, curling it gently and beginning to fuck her.

It doesn't take much to push her over the edge. It's clear when she does. April's body tenses up and she throws her head back as her groans become nothing but a shrill, barely audible scream. I give a few more slow, lazy laps to let her ride out the best of it before pulling back, placing another kiss on the inside of her thigh before pulling up.

"Was that good enough for you, my beautiful wife?" Before she got the chance to answer my question, though, my lips sealed over hers in a firm kiss, letting her get a taste of her own sweetness.

"Mm," April grunted out, unable to say anything else.

"Do you need a minute?" I asked, a hand smoothing over her shoulder.

She shook her head, finding her voice. "Don't you dare keep me waiting any longer."

"Lemme just grab a condom," I began to pull away.

"Nope. Progestin-only contraceptives. You're welcome." April teased, pulling me back down for another kiss. I groan into her mouth, practically a wedding gift just to myself.

I pulled away from her for only a moment to finally remove the top half of the lingerie set that she had on, not finding the patience for it and instead just pulling it directly over her head. I focus on her breasts for a moment, squeezing and massaging the full tissue, lowering a head to flicker my tongue across it and tease the sensitive nub. She moaned out, letting me know just how much she enjoyed all of it. I'd hardly gotten to see much of them in any context that wasn't breastfeeding since the twins.

After a bit of teasing, I slowly pulled back from April and positioned myself self above her. I was hard, my balls were tight and aching, and I was so, so sensitive. I needed to be inside of my mouth.

I groaned low in his throat as he entered her, she was so wet, yet so tight. She laid her hands on my shoulders and moved with me as I thrust fully inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust since it had been awhile for the both of us since we had been intimate.

The two of us go at it for awhile, and hell, I'm impressed with how long I manage to last given that time without making love to her had been more than frustrating. But I spill myself inside of her after making her cum for the second time. We only pause for a moment before both getting into the shower together, and I wrapped her legs around my waist as I fucked her into the shower wall again. We had all this space to ourselves – might as well do everything we can to take advantage of it.

But we manage to enjoy the honeymoon outside of the bedroom, too.

April turned out to be a much better hiker than I would have given her credit too, even if she spent much of it behind the lens of a camera, trying to capture every moment. I noticed that she took a few photos of me, as well – it's motivation to snag the camera and grab a few photos of her, too, particularly when she's not looking. She looked beautiful in candids.

But it's the last night, sitting out on the balcony with wine and dinner, that I think will stick in my memory forever.

My arm was wrapped snuggly around her frame, her head leaning on my shoulder. I can smell the fresh scent of her shampoo. We had both showered once we had gotten back home from today's hike, and I'd helped massage some of the fruity smelling liquid into her hair after we'd both cum. It's quite easy to smell now, and I breathe it in, relaxing against her.

"I love you so much," April murmured quietly as we watched the sunset.

"I love you too, baby," I returned the sentiment, kissing the top of the head.

She snuggled against me firmly and for a moment, I thought that was all she was going to say on the matter. I'm fine with it, of course. I love the casual exchange of declarations of love between the two of us.

"I mean it, Jackson." She spoke after a moment.

"I know." I rubbed my hand over her arm.

"No, I really mean it." April pulled away from me suddenly, turning to face me and setting down her glass of wine. "You.. you have done everything for me. I was so mean to you when I was going through the worst of it and I took all of my problems out on you and everyone else and you didn't deserve it. I know that I've apologized for it before, but… you just need to know how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Because you mean everything to me. There's no one that I rather be sitting here with and I certainly wouldn't want to be sitting here alone, either. Harriet, Nathaniel, and Oliver… they're all the lights of my life and I love them more than anything else. Except… you. You gave me the lights of my life. And that… Jackson, that's everything to me."

I reached forward instinctively to wipe away the tears that had slipped out of her hazel eyes, smiling softly at her. I had done everything in my power to be there for her too and to make up for the times that I hadn't been.

I knew that, occasionally, I had been a dick to her. I had taken my own problems out of her when she didn't deserve it, I hadn't always been understanding or patient. Or I'd claimed to be, and well, it'd been superficial. But now, getting down to the gritty details of it, it all made sense. We had fallen back together in a much, much more beautiful way that we could have ever dreamed of when we'd gone about it the first time.

I'd heard Callie make a comment about broken bones grow back stronger. I'd like to think we were proof of that.

"April, sweetheart…" I pulled her in again, this time in a hug. "You are everything to me. Absolutely everything. Even after all of the crappy things that the two of us have been through together, all the pain, I would do it all over again if I knew that it meant I would even have a chance of being with you at the end of the road. There's not a thing in the world that I wouldn't do for you. I love you, and everything that comes with you. You're my entire world." I kissed the top of her head as I let the sentimental words flow from me without a filter. I'm not always quite so emotional or semantic, but at the moment, it's perfectly right.

We spend our last night together making love in bed, staying up later than what we probably should, given that we have to drive back to Seattle early in the next morning. Starbucks would fix up any lost sleep, as it would always be worth it when it was alongside her.

Getting back to Seattle and the rest of our lives means packing up for everything that we had left to come. Sure, I'd had my hesitations about moving halfway across the country, even if both of us had jobs as the head of our respective departments. But she was going to be worth it, I knew that. And we both knew there was no reasonable way for that to happen here without screwing over Owen. She would never do that, I knew. He was one of her best friends.

Packing was stressful. I try to take the load off of it off of April's hands, but she's a little particular about some of the particular organization of it. It seems like a waste of time to me knowing that the moving company is going to shift things around, but I let her boss me around, however, she wants to, just in the way that she had when we moved within houses at Seattle. It is a bit more stressful this time, though, given that it's a little more complicated to move hundreds and hundreds of miles instead of a dozen.

And of course, there's a going away party for us planned. I'm not sure who all had put it together, but I had suspected that it was mostly Arizona and Owen's doing, given their closeness to April. Ben and Alex weren't quite the same sentimental type – shared beers were enough.

Naturally, though, it is across the street at Joe's.

"Aye!" The crowd yelled when we walked in, bright smiles and lifted beers greeting us.

"I'm going to go grab us some drinks, alright? You go get cozy." I gave April a quick kiss on the head.

I wandered over to the bar, unsurprised to kind Alex, Ben, and Owen already gathered around it with their respective beers. I gave a quick order to the bartender first before I address the three of them.

"And here I thought Warren becoming a firefighter was going to the biggest change," Alex commented.

Ben gave a big chuckle. "Yeah, man, you really one-upped me there. But I think Miranda might actually kill me this time if I try to outdo you there."

"This will be good for you guys," Owen offered supportively. "Kepner deserves the job."

"Yeah, she's kind of been doing yours for awhile now," Alex threw at him without hesitation.

I accepted the bottle of beer and glass of wine from the bartender a moment later, taking a sip of my beer and letting them banter back and forth for the sake of entertainment.

"I think she might run me down if I didn't," Owen responded with an easy shrug.

"You're probably not wrong about that." I threw in with a good chuckle. "She's just about as bossy as it gets."

"Uh, Miranda." Ben pointed out to disagree.

"You got me there," I chuckled. "But I better go get her this wine before she puts that up for debate."

I give them a nod to bid them adieu before heading back across the bar to join April who was currently surrounded by Arizona and Amelia, chattering away. She'd always been close with the blonde, I knew that. But I'd noticed that she and Amelia had become closer since she'd gone off the deep end. It gave them something shared to bond over, I supposed. I remembered the way that Shepherd had spiraled out from alcoholism in the year that she and Owen had both been gone in Jordan. But now, they were both on the straight and narrow again, assuming that was just soda in Amelia's glass.

"Here you go, babe," I handed it over with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," April smiled up at me.

"I'm going to miss you so much, April," Arizona continued whatever conversation that they had apparently been having before. "I don't know what I'm going to do here without you." One of her arms was hooked around my wife's, leaning into her slightly. Her cheeks were flushed with color. She must have gotten started with the wine before the two of us had shown up, and everyone knew that Robbins could be a bit of a goofy lightweight.

"Well, we do have a spare bedroom. You're welcome to it whenever you want." April offered, leaning into her best friend slightly. I smiled, watching the two of them.

It's a good night, for everyone. Maybe there's a little more alcohol than what we should be consuming, but most of us weren't on call for the night, so it wasn't that much of a big deal. We still had all of tomorrow to finish up on the move.

But it turned out that tomorrow went by impossibly fast. Harriet was both excited and nervous about the move, and the twins, well, they probably wouldn't be able to understand any of it besides the fact that their room and house was about to change, and that they would be spending a little bit more time in their pens while we got everything in the house sorted. Baby proofing the new place was going to come before anything else, and it was a decently sized house. It was going to take a bit of time to get everything comfortable and ready to go.

All of it was going to be worth it, though.

I can tell from that first bright smile that filled April's lips when she looked around the house, even with just the basic furniture and boxes out, that she was happy to be starting over our life again. We got away from the complicated history, yet we hadn't forgotten it. It was the same with our problems. We really were going about it the right way, this time.

The smile at the house doesn't compare with the one at our first day of work, the first time that someone really and truly refers to her as Chief Kepner.

I'm not much for fate or the likes, but it's clear. This was exactly where we were meant to be.

At the end of the first day at our new hospital together, we walk out to the car, and I've got my arm slung leisurely around her shoulder. The weather's not terrible, not for now, even if winter was likely to make the both of us change our mind about that much.

"Did you have a good day, Chief?" I questioned, smiling down at her.

"I had an amazing day, Jackson. I… this is amazing. I'm the Chief of Trauma at a level one trauma center. I get to be in charge. I'm the big boss." April rambled on, an ecstatic smile on her face.

"I love to see you happy like this," I commented, kissing the tip of her nose.

"And I love you," she wrapped her arm around my waist, squeezing me gently.

We fall into the sync for the rest of the short walk out to our car. Just like we'd spend the rest of our lives, side-by-side, satisfied with our jobs, and our thoughts a mixture of each other and our three beautiful children.


	22. Epilogue

**_ APRIL _ **

I haven't bothered with really drinking any alcohol since the twins were born.

Only two exceptions had been made. The night of the wedding, at the reception, I'd had a glass of champagne like everyone else. And the last night in Seattle with all of our friends, I'd had a glass of wine. But I had left it at that.

Honestly, alcohol and drinking had never been the problem with me. Sure, they had been a problem, but it was far from the root of my issues. It'd been a failure of a coping mechanism. I know all about addiction and alcoholism, as a doctor, as someone who had a vague interest in psychology during undergrad.

There are tons of different ways that it could start, and it was a mixture of nature and nurture. On both accounts, I'd been lucky, growing up. Life had gotten tough and slapped me in the face, but that wasn't always a predictor. Most young drinkers begin drinking because their friends are drinking. By starting young, drinking alcohol becomes an acceptable habit, and can lead to alcohol addiction. Of course, there are a hundred different ways something like that could happen. There's no set path for any of it.

But I still avoided it. When I had gotten pregnant with both of the boys, it had been pretty easy to avoid. I'd been working on my crap, getting better, and it had all been good. Once they were both, between breastfeeding and everything else, it had been on the back of my mind.

We had been in Chicago for exactly one year, to the date. The boys were mostly weaned from breastfeeding, enough that I've gotten some autonomy over my body back again. Harriet was doing great in the preschool that we had managed to get her into at the last moment. It turned out having an Avery last name was good for something, even if I'd poked fun at Jackson over the years about using his status. I always told myself that I would never, but it turned out that our kids were where exceptions were made.

There was nothing surprising there, really.

The avoidance of alcohol had mostly been the fact that being a mother had made me a little more of a control freak. Jackson and most everyone else would probably argue that I had always been one and now just had an excuse to put it on display. He was probably right.

Tonight had already been deemed another one of those exceptions. Jackson and I… well, with the mountains that we'd climbed and stumbled down in our relationship, we had a lot of different dates. The first wedding. The first divorce. The first-slash-second poppas. The second actual wedding. Samuel's birth and death day. Harriet and the twins birthdays. Then on top of that, of course, there are all of the regular dates that couples celebrate. Our birthdays, regular holidays.

With the long list to deal with, though, we'd picked and chose to narrow it down a little bit. On our own terms, of course. The kids would still get all of the celebrations in the world. And then some, probably. We were suckers for spoiling them.

The move to Chicago was the real start of our lives together, though.

It was easy to argue against that. We had known each other for a decade before, fallen in love with each other… well, not quite a decade before, but close. Even with the breaks that had come, we had been together for a long, long time. We had more anniversaries than just this one.

But this seemed to be the one that really mattered. This was the one that stuck.

We had gotten our shit together, to put it bluntly. I had. I'd found another great therapist here in Chicago, and I'm sure that she had a much easier time with me than what Betsy had when I had first started with her. I knew that I was in a healthier and happier place now, that I'd come miles from where I had started. I was proud of myself. I knew that Jackson was, too.

I was proud of him, as well. I had never doubted him for a moment, how great of a father he was to all of our children, how great of a husband he was to me. I had always known that he was a good man, no matter what other factors there were in the picture. He had just proven that to be the truth time and time again. I couldn't have been more grateful to have such a supportive man by my side.

After all, neither of us would have been here if he hadn't supported me. I was thriving in Chicago. I'd always had an inkling that I would do well as the head of a department with how much I had run in Seattle, and this had proven it.

It was the same hospital that I'd come to a couple years ago when things had been tense around the hospital with Minnick, and I'm pretty sure Catherine had just been sweetening me up. That turned out to be a good thing as it just meant that there was less for me to have to turn around when I did get here. They were already using my check system, my way. It was a really, really good feeling. I was welcomed and wanted here, I wasn't doubted or questioned. I was the number one pick for everyone, I was the one that attendings fought over having me inside of the operating room with me.

Even though over the years of working at Grey Sloan, I had learned to value myself and tried t deflect the habit of letting other's words guide me, all of that was so much easier now. I did have the confirmation that I needed. I wasn't just being an egomaniac, or having people question me all the time. I was finally being recognized for my talents.

"I'm not on call tonight, or tomorrow," I reminded the group of eager residents gathered around me. "Which means that I do not want to hear anything about this place unless the world as we know it is literally ending. There are other attendings, other trauma surgeons. Ask them before my name even comes to mind."

Despite the stern words coming out as I instructed them, it's hard not to smile. They like me. There are no mean nicknames, no being called the dud, or a hangover, or whatever other names had followed me at Grey Sloan.

"What if they don't know?" One of the third years, Louise, asked.

"Then you better start going through the Internet and medical textbooks. Do not call me." I answered. They stood there for a moment, waiting for me to say something more, and I waved my hand to scatter them away. "Go. There's still work to be done right now!"

I watched them scamper off in every direction for a moment, smiling to myself. Shrugging off my lab coat, I fold it over my arm, tracing over the word Chief for a moment. It's nice to be in charge.

Taking the stairs up a floor and to the attending lounge, I changed out of the dark maroon scrubs and into a dress. It's knee length and form fitted, simple black. I threw on a rose gold leather jacket, one that Jackson had bought for me a couple of months ago when he'd noticed me eyeing it in a store but I'd given the excuse that I wasn't the type to wear a leather jacket. That was before he insisted and told me just how sexy he thought I looked while wearing it. The heels I wore matched the color closely.

"Well don't you look hot," Mariah commented as she walked into the lounge.

Mariah was an attending orthopedic surgeon, which meant that the two of us saw a lot of each other. She's a little louder and a little more ballsy than I am. She reminded me a lot of Callie, actually. In every way but appearance, really. She's shorter than I am, but I'm pretty sure that she could just as easily bench press me. She was muscle and not much else.

"Thanks," I smiled, glancing over at her as I put in a pair of stud earrings. "Jackson and I are going on a date tonight. I thought I'd dress to impress." I shrugged.

"Your booty is lookin' straight fire." I love Mariah, I do, but she speaks a little too much like a millennial for me. It's probably my only complaint about her. Before I'd met her, I pretty much had no idea what about half of her sayings meant. You would have thought that she had teenagers, but the closest she got to kids was babysitting mine.

"The secret is twins." I joked with a smile.

"Or squats." Mariah retorted with a grin. "Have fun tonight. Use a condom. Babysitting those three is already more than enough for me to babysit."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Yeah, I'll be sure to keep you in mind when Jackson takes my clothes off."

"That's how you keep it exciting," she gave a little shimmy. "If you ever want a threesome, you know that I'm your girl." She winked at me.

"Oh, I think you've made that clear, don't worry." I grinned at her, grabbing my purse. "I've got to head out now. See you later."

"See ya."

Walking down the hospital hallways with a large smile on my face, it doesn't take me long to get out and to the parking lot. It's cool, which is normal. Even if Chicago doesn't always have the same consistent overcast that Seattle does, by no means would I ever be naive enough to consider it a city with good weather. But, at least the wind wasn't completely ruining my hair tonight. I've had to settle on putting my hair up far too many times since moving. It's something that I had whined about plenty, even if it's one of my only problems with the city itself. For the most part, it was all pretty great.

Jackson was already there, leaning against the driver's door of our car. I watched as a large smile pulled across his features when his eyes set on me, clearly swooping over and assessing what I was wearing. The grin on his cheeks made it clear that he was happy with it.

"There you are," he greeted me.

"Hi, honey." I closed the remainder of the distance between us, stretching up on my toes a little more to greet him with a kiss.

His hands fell on my hips. "You look amazing, babe. Like a queen." He complimented me.

"You know who you sound like?" I questioned him with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Mariah," Jackson answered with a chuckle. "Doesn't make me any less right, though. I feel like I should just be bowing to greet you." He took one of my hands, lifting it up and placing a kiss on the back of it.

"You're ridiculous." I grinned. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. Get in."

Jackson moved around the side of the car so that he could open my door for him, waiting until I got in to shut it. Despite the empty car seats in the back, all of our kids are already with the babysitter. He had picked them up and taken them home early. I'd get a peek at them when they are hopefully peaceful and asleep tonight.

He knew the city a lot better than I did when it came to driving, given almost every time that I even tried to get behind the wheel, he makes some kind of comment about how I'm a terrible driver. He's right, sure. I just don't like him saying it.

But it leaves me a little more out of my depth as he navigated around the city to wherever he had in mind. We don't go out too much given that it tends to be a bit of a hassle with all of the kids. Twins had definitely made it that much harder. Harriet was relatively well behaved in public as long as we didn't ignore her, but the twins don't mind embarrassing either of us when it came to screaming or throwing fits. Kids were always going to be kids. There was no changing that.

For tonight, at least, kids were not on the agenda.

When we finally slowed down and turned into a parking lot, it takes a little straining of my neck to figure out exactly where we are. And I have to admit, I'm surprised. It's the Adler Planetarium.

"What are we doing here?" I questioned, looking at him. "It's a museum. Daytime hours, babe."

"Not tonight," Jackson answered with a shake of his head. "On every third Thursday of the month, they do an adults night. Twenty-one plus only. Cocktails, food. All the benefits of going to a place like this without having to deal with dragging kids around or listening to other parents drag their screaming kids around."

I stared at him for a moment as I processed the words before a big smile broke across my face. It's a little nerdy, sure, but I knew that he was a bigger dork that he ever let on. This was just proof.

"You're a dork," I leaned across the center console to get a kiss as he put the car in park. "And I love you."

"Yes, yes you do. I love you too."

We both get out of the car and quickly get in line. He had already bought the tickets ahead of time, of course, so it doesn't take long for us to get in. Everything in the museum was open as normal, but it was significantly quieter than what I would have imagined it must have been like during daytime. I love kids. And I adore our kids, particularly. But anyone needed a break from them on occasion. If nothing else, my ears did.

We wandered slowly through the exhibits. There's something fascinating about astronomy. I'd never gotten to take a class on it during my undergraduate career because of how focused I'd been on my degree, all of my classes had been premed or major requisites. I'd always wanted to. I'd expressed that to him, once upon a time. He remembered.

"Let's go see the Doane Observatory," Jackson suggested, tugging my hand along. "It's the largest aperture telescope in Chicago." He informed me, intertwining our fingers together.

"You know so much about this," I commented with a soft smile up at him.

"I've got a very sexy, very smart wife to impress." He replied with an easy shrug of his shoulders before slinging an arm around me and pulling me in closer to him.

I let my gaze linger on him for a moment before moving it forward to where we were walking. "She's very lucky."

And I absolutely knew that I was extremely lucky. Every day I was reminded of it in one way or another, whether it was Harriet babbling about her day at preschool, one of the twins uttering out a new word and encouraging their counterpart to do the same, or Jackson settling down to rub my feet at the end of a long day. My family had fallen together in the most magical way possible, even though every possible kind of obstacle and more had been thrown our way. We had worked it out no matter what.

Jackson lit up a bit when we got inside of the observatory. It reminded me of the telescope that we'd had in the first apartment that we had shared as a married couple. Admittedly, it hadn't gotten a lot of use. It turned out Seattle wasn't the best place to own one.

But here, the view is amazing. It's just settled on the outskirts of the city so the light pollution, for the most part, isn't as bad as it could be. But the observatory was designed to look much further than just as the immediate stars that you could see in the night sky. I might not have been quite as knowledgeable about all of this stuff as he was, but I at least knew some of the basics.

"Here we go…" Jackson muttered, waving me closer. "There's Saturn."

I bent down to peer through the telescope, squinting my eyes to try and get a better look. He was right, though. The little yellow-brown blob, a clear ring around it. Definitely Saturn.

"Wow," I breathed out before pulling away. "You're pretty good at this stuff."

Jackson shrugged modestly. "I might have gotten you something for tonight."

I raised my eyebrows at him, a hint of amusement just barely managing to pull across my lips. It wasn't an officially anniversary. At least, not the kind that I thought we were going to exchange gifts for. Apparently, he had something else in mind. A little warning would have been nice.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out what appeared to be a locket. It wasn't wrapped up in a box like I would have expected him to do with gifting jewelry. Instead, he opened it up, handing it over to me.

It's an expanse of night stars, similar to the one that we were currently standing beneath.

"It's the stars of the night we met," Jackson explained, a hand moving beneath mine to support it. "I know that we didn't fall in love right away. That I thought you were weird at first and you thought I was kind of a dick. And hey, neither of us were wrong, really. I might not have fallen in love with you the first time that I met you but I fall in love with you more and more each day, April. And I want to you to know that. I want you to know that despite all of the bumps and hitches in the road, if we had to go back to this night all over again, I wouldn't want to end up anywhere else than right here, by your side."

Crying in public was something that I generally tried to avoid, and yet I tear up emotionally at his words, sniffling to try and keep any of them from spilling over. As much as he teased me, he knew exactly the right words to make my heart sing.

"It's beautiful, Jackson," I breathed out, smiling up at him sincerely. I turned around for a brief moment, sweeping my hair onto one side of my neck so that he could clasp it for me. It only took a quick second before I was facing him again. "You're amazing."

"Only for you," he sighed against my lips, nipping at the bottom one but not quite kissing me. Both his hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me in close.

"And the kids," I added on with a shrug of one shoulder. "They have the most amazing dad in the world, and they don't even know it yet."

"As long as their mom knows it." Jackson smiled at me.

"She does." I toyed with the locket now resting around my neck for a brief moment, adjusting to the weight of it. It's well-made and not entirely too heavy. I don't wear a lot of jewelry these days, mostly because it's just one more things for the kids to be pulling on, but I'll have to make an exception for this particular piece. It just might have to be tucked beneath shirts when we were at home.

With my head tucked comfortably on his shoulder, I breathed in the scent of his cologne. It's something musky, something new. I can't name it. He's only been wearing it a couple of days now. Changing things up, he'd claimed. I'd teased at the idea of a mid-life crisis. He said he'd already had one.

Maybe we both had. It kind of seemed that way, on paper. He'd gone through with ridiculous spending that no adult man ever really needed to, something that was outside of the norm, even for him. And I'd spiraled out of control and lost my faith. Maybe we're a couple of years too long, but given the short lifespans of so many of the people that we had worked with over the years, making it into our seventies seemed like a walking miracle all by itself. However long I lived didn't matter, as long as I had him and our kids with me.

It's late by the time we finally get home and pay the babysitter. All three of the kids are asleep – a miracle by itself, really, that and the fact that we'd managed to find such a good one in the city. She was pretty much a godsend.

"I'm going to check on them real quick," I whispered as if the two of us weren't already in our bedroom, changing into pajamas for the night.

Walking down the hallway, both of the twins are soundly sleeping. We'd put them in two separate cribs a few months ago and they had taken to it with some difficulty at first, but now they both seemed to be pretty content having their own space. They were growing rapidly, had put on weight quickly. It was good for the both of them. I kissed each of them on their forehead, breathing out in relief when neither woke.

Harriet, on the other hand, was now in her own big girl bed. She didn't always like it. Or at least, she didn't always seem to, frequently using it as an excuse to sleep in the same bed as me and Jackson. But she too was soundly asleep. She always had been a little angel.

"They're all fast asleep," I informed him with a smile as I came back to the bedroom, plopping down onto the bed alongside him and rolling up against him.

"You ever think that we could manage a fourth?" Jackson asked.

I raised my eyebrows, testing to see if he was serious or not. When he doesn't take back the request, I give a slight shrug of my shoulders. "I'm kind of getting old. I don't know if we could do four under five," I commented.

"You're not old." That was the only point he tried to disagree with, giving me a quick kiss on the nose.

"Maybe," I huffed out. "How about we just see what happens?"

"Sounds like a plan to me." Jackson agreed.

Giving him one more tired smile, I curled up a little tighter against him, nuzzling my nose against his bare chest and just breathing him in for a moment. We don't always fall asleep curled up anymore, that was just one of those things that seemed important at the beginning of a relationship and gradually less slow as you became more comfortable with one another, and with the relationship itself. Yet tonight, I fall asleep curled up in his arms, grateful to God and every other good force in the universe to have my life the way it was.


	23. Outtake #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set place between chapters 14 and 15.

**_ APRIL _ **

Exhausted didn't even begin to cover it.

Seven months pregnant with twins had put me as big as I had ever been with Harriet. I didn't know how my body was supposed to handle another two months of pregnancy, especially with everything going on. In two weeks, we would be moving into a new house together. With his apartment and my house, it meant twice as much to pack. Plus things to donate. I'd purged through my closet and donated a couple of bags of things to Goodwill. Extra furniture was a little harder to deal with, we were both attached to our own items. But I knew he was significantly less likely to put up a fight while I was this pregnant. One perk. Just one.

But now we were both trying. When things had been hard between us in the past, it had never really been this way. Not since Samuel had passed. One of us always gave up and left the other trying to hold things together, pulled in every possible direction and only causing my cracks in the foundation. This time was already significantly different from that alone.

"I just need a minute to sit down," I breathed out, placing my hand on my lower back as I moved to lower myself into one of the kitchen chairs. My back was killing me. If it wasn't a pee break, it was this.

"Don't worry about it. I can finish up with this stuff." Jackson insisted, reaching into the highest cabinet to pull down some of the dishes that had been placed up there.

"No, no, I want to help." I disagreed with a shake of my head.

"It's fine. It's casserole dishes and mixing bowls. No big deal." He looked at me, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"You say that now but we both know that my kitchen stuff is better than yours is. Which means it needs to be packed well so the movers cannot break it no matter how they try." I countered, my eyebrows raising up slightly. He threw his hands up in mock defeat, setting the roll of bubble wrap down on the counter.

He got a glass down, filling it with tap water and bringing it over to me. "So what can I do?" He asked.

"Thank you," I said as I picked up the glass, taking a sip from it before answering. "How about... the bookshelf I have in my bedroom? We can split the boxes with books and throw pillows or other soft stuff so they don't become impossibly heavy." I suggested.

"You and your million throw pillows," Jackson remarked with a shake of his head.

"And a million and one books." I retorted, pushing myself up to stand slowly. "C'mon, I'll sit on my bed."

Habitually, he gravitated closer to me as I stood up, making sure that I was comfortable and confident with getting up. It had become harder now, of course, with being huge and unable to see my own two feet. But there's still a stubborn part of me that doesn't want to be babied, even by him. I wanted to keep and maintain my independence.

Physically, at least. Mentally, I still felt like I needed him.

"You don't trust me to do it on my own?" He teased with a smile.

"For all I know, you'll throw them in a trash bag, donate them, and then in a few weeks tell me that the movers must have lost them somehow." I laughed as I walked into the bedroom, sitting down on the edge of my bed. I scooted back, propping up my feet to try and alleviate some of the swellings on my ankles.

"You got me there." He chuckled. He folded and taped together a new box, beginning to fill it up with some of the books on the shelves. I had a lot of books. I never got rid of any — not since I was a child, really. "Do you have enough here?"

I shrugged. "We'll never have to buy Harriet any books." I pointed out.

"Some of these are pretty old and falling apart," Jackson observed. I knew that he was right. "Don't you think you should toss them in the recycling bin and get new ones? Or, save paper, get a tablet." He suggested.

"I like hard copies. I don't need more time staring at a screen. We do that at work enough." I shrugged. "Besides, some of them have old notes in them. I don't want to get rid of them."

"High school notes?" He asked.

"Yeah," I nodded.

Jackson grabbed the book nearest him – _To Kill A Mockingbird_. The first time that I'd read it had been my freshman year of high school and I had read it multiple times since then. He opened up the book and began to flip through it almost immediately, and it only took me a quick second to figure out exactly what he was doing. A few pounds ago, I would have lunged to knock it out of his hands. Right now, it's not exactly an option.

"Stop that!" I yelled, grabbing the nearest decorative pillow and throwing it at him.

"What? Do you have some deep, dark secret written in here? Maybe about– oh, what was his name–Joseph?" He teased. I couldn't help but let out a loud snort.

"I'm sure I have notes about… recurrent themes or some imagery or something. I would have never written down something like that in a school book." I shook my head. "I just want those books in good condition. So Harriet can have them one day, and these two, too." I patted my belly gently, feeling the two babies both move around in response. It's like they know when I talk about them.

"Boring," he commented as he tucked it and the thrown pillow into the box. "But it'll be good for them. I liked _To Kill A Mockingbird_. It was a good one."

"Good is an understatement," I remarked with a shake of my head.

While he packed up some of the books, I laid down on my side for a moment, glad to stretch out. A nap would have been good. I wasn't getting as much rest as I should have been, and I knew that. Work, Harriet, doctors appointments, moving… it was all piling up and turning out to be a lot to juggle.

"Hey, do you want to keep your Bible out?" Jackson's voice cut through my moment of relaxation, and I opened the eye closet to him to peak at him holding it.

"Yeah, I do," I nodded and held out one hand.

Jackson stepped over to hand the holy book to me and my fingers slipped around it, only grabbing about half the pages so the rest of it fell open. A tiny piece of paper slipped out and I blinked in surprise, having forgotten that there was anything in there in the first place – perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising, really. I frequently took notes whenever I read the Bible about modern interpretations and whatnot. It just looked like a dark piece of paper for my typical stuff.

"Here," he murmured as he bent down to pick it up, glancing at it. "Oh."

"What?" I asked.

He paused, taking a deep breath. "It's Samuel's ultrasound."

I froze at the words, the last thing that I had expected to hear. When the truth about his health had come out, I had tried to find faith and solace in God again, with my mother, with my pastor, and I had struggled. I had poured over passages of faith and pain, of love and loss, looking for answers that I wasn't able to find in the form of text. Somewhere along the way, I must have closed the book around it and forgotten. After, I hadn't wanted to look at the ultrasounds anymore. They were practically ingrained in my mind after all of that research into O.I. I had done.

"Can I?" I asked, wiggling my fingers to stretch out for it once more.

Jackson handed it over to me without a word, and I looked up at him briefly. His eyes were sparkling – not in their usual way. Instead, the curious mixture of blue and green was tainted with an irreparable sadness that I knew too well. I had seen it staring back at me, for months after Samuel, and even in the last year when losing myself.

"Sit," I suggested, moving and patting the freshly emptied space on the edge of the bed.

The bed shifted as he sat down next to me and I sat up fully so that I could lean into him. His arm wrapped around my shoulders and I let it happen, leaning into him and taking a deep breath. This was what we should have done after we lost him.

From age and being tucked away for so long, the picture of the sonogram was a little wrinkled. There were others that had been more carefully taken care of over the years, but this one had slipped through the cracks. I smoothed it out against my leg, trying to remove them, but it didn't make a difference. My pointer finger ran over the outline that had once been our son. It was for sixteen weeks. Samuel was sitting like a little Buddha baby like he always had been. We had thought it was so cute when we first noticed it. How quickly that train of thought had changed for us.

"He would have been so handsome. Just like you." I murmured, taking a deep breath. Tears of my own began to burn at the edges of my eyes. This time, hormones aren't to blame.

"He was," Jackson said quietly. His hand moved to my stomach. "And these guys will be."

"Yeah, they will be," I sniffled and gave a nod of my head. "I still think about him and pray for him every day, you know? I can't not think about him. For so long it was the most painful thing and now it still hurts, but… I don't know. I guess it's a different hurt now. Manageable, if that makes sense."

"It does," he quickly answered. "It does. I feel that way too. It's never not going to hurt, but it's not the same that it was at the beginning." When I was gone. I half-expected the words to be thrown my way, but they're not.

Maybe we were making some progress.

"I always wondered how our lives would have been different if everything had been okay," Jackson confessed softly, thumb running across the skin just above my belly button.

"I did at the beginning," I admitted with a slight nod of the head, placing my hand on top of his. "But then we might not have Harriet. Or these two babies. Everything would be different and some of it would be good, but it might erase the good stuff that we already have."

He fell quiet for a moment as he considered my words, but his thumb didn't stop drawing circles around it. One of the babies, Baby A, kicked at his hand. I was sure that he could feel it, peaking up at him from the corner of my eye to catch a smile on his face. He had definitely felt it. He had been the same way with Harriet, amazed at every movement that he could feel from touching the outside of my belly. It meant something magical to the both of us. Now, talking about him, it just felt right.

"I guess Harriet and these guys are worth all of it, huh?" He prompted.

"Yeah, I think they are." I smiled. "I love him so much. Yet Harriet's still the light of my life and now that love and light are about to double. Triple, rather." I corrected myself, wetting my lips. "That's something that's worth smiling about, I think."

"I love Harriet more than I ever thought was possible." Jackson sighed softly. "Samuel died and you were gone and I felt like I was sleepwalking through the rest of my life. And that didn't really change until I felt her kick inside of you. She fixed me when I didn't even have the awareness to realize that I was broken. You both did."

Falling quiet for a moment, I leaned further into him than I was before, shutting my eyes. He so rarely talked about who he had felt after Jackson died, even after I had come back from Jordan and tried with him, hoped that it would be some way of fixing what had been broken between the two of them. I hadn't been able to crack past the surface of how I felt, so I don't know why I had expected differently from him and then faulted him for not being able to do so. This kind of honesty was a welcomed surprise.

"She turned my life around, too. Even if it wasn't the most convenient timing in the world." I nodded my head slightly as I spoke. "Kind of feels like we're back where we're supposed to be again. With Samuel looking out for all of us."

"It does," he agreed quietly.

"Here." I moved his hand away a moment. "We might be able to see their hands or feet."

I rolled up my shirt so that my belly could be seen. A few stretch marks had begun to appear along my skin. Leaning back so I rested on my elbows, I took a deep breath, falling quiet as we waited for some kind of movement to make itself known.

After a few quiet moments of waiting, a movement began to make itself visible among my stomach as one of the babies turned and tumbled inside of my stomach. I watched Jackson's face for a moment instead of my stomach, seeing the light appear there in his eyes as it became more obvious. He really was a great father. More emotional than he would have ever let the rest of the world know, but wonderful all the same. I knew that. I would never have to doubt it.

Gaze returned to my belly after a particularly strong kick hit just to the side of my belly button. It nearly felt like the two of them were play fighting inside of me.

"Did you see that?" Jackson asked, briefly glancing at me.

"No," I shook my head. "I was watching you," I admitted.

"Look again. You could see his foot appear. Just wait." Finger pointed at my belly, right where I had felt the strong kick earlier. It made sense that would be the one to show.

A little more time passed until another strong kick came a little to the right of where it had been the first time, and I can just see the faint outline of a tiny foot appearing there. A huge smile blew across my features. Even if I had seen it before, every time was still just as special as the first. These babies were a wonderful miracle.

"It really is amazing, isn't it?" I smiled, looking up at him again.

"Yeah, it is," he nodded, smiling as he looked up at me.

His large hand returned my bare stomach again and rubbed it gently, and I placed mine on top of his. My stomach didn't look quite as large with his hand on top of it, even though it most certainly was still huge. He was always good at balancing out things inside my head. I may have tried to push it away now and then, but he was ultimately the best thing for me. And I was for him – no matter how many times we tried to convince ourselves otherwise.

"I guess we should finish up packing up this stuff." I murmured after a few minutes, running my fingertips over the ultrasound photo one more time.

"Yeah, probably." Jackson murmured in agreement, dropping down his head and kissing my stomach.

"I love you, Jackson." I reminded him quietly.

"I love you too, April."


End file.
